#blue eye spoiled brat au

[lillymakesart]

I also loved how no matter what drawing it is spoiled brat Mizu always has that PNG pink bow on her head 😭

Like oh that's just normal Mizu nothing crazy but then you ad the bow and I'm like- OMG PRINCESS MIZU

thats why we love her we got us a wife that can do BOTH 🔪🩸🥷🔥💀💖💕💅🏼✨🌟

[screampied]

PARTITION! g. satoru

ৎ୭ sum. your sugar daddy, satoru’s worst fear happened. he fears you’re too much of a spoiled rotten brat. screw riding in his expensive private limousine—you wanted to ride something else instead. (him, duh)

wc. 7.3k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy gojo! au, age gap (early twenties + thirties), car sęx, bratty reader, unprotected, getting eaten out the window, tít job, reverse cowgirl, doggy, cunnīlingus, nanami cameo, slight alcohol consumption, size kink, cęrvix kissing, possessive themes (wearing waist beads w his initials), implied multiple rounds, he’s sooo whipped, bręeding.

➤ sd! gojo masterlist

“meet my baby here, sweets. charlotte.”

“satoru, what.”

as satoru had an arm slinked around your waist, brushing a thumb across the jewels that stuck against of of the many designer blouses he’s bought you within the past week, he hums. the two of you were staring straight at a limousine. it was icy blue like his eyes with a plethora of dark-tinted windows. to even top it off, it had ‘G.S limousine service, inc.’ carved into the side of one of the doors in bright, blue cursive.

you huffed, smearing your glossed lips together. “you named your limousine?”

“heh, well she’s yours now,” he hums, guiding you toward the slid open doors. “c’mon, there’s a club i wanna take you to. if we leave now, we can beat the press.” and satoru takes a peek at his gleaming, pricey watch. he helps lifts the back of your long skirt from touching the ground before you step in. immediately, you’re hit with flashing lights inside the luxurious car and its plush red seats.

“where to, sir.” a blond chauffeur adjusts his mirror with a sigh, taking a short glance at you.

satoru throws an arm around you, tugging lightly on his tie that’s tucked neatly in his suit. “ah, kento, meet my girl. and please—drive us to my private lounge,” satoru kisses your cheek as you sit, whispering in an impish, low tone. “buckle up, sweetheart. ‘s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

the seats were oh-so-soft, a violent hot color of maroon as the entire limo was lit up with nothing but dim flashing, flashing lights.

it was bright, the size alone was probably bigger than a simple normal bathroom. satoru saw you taking in the luxurious life like you always did, craning your head from left to right before peering at the empty wine glasses in front of you both.

“it’s so pretty,” you hummed, your head resting against his shoulder.

once you’re laid against him, you’re smacked with his signature loud cologne scent. it was always a scent you’d never forget, nor could you get used to.

it’s strong, making you take the citrusy manly aroma in silence every time.

with a raised brow, you look up at the white-haired man before timidly murmuring, “wait- what do you mean this is mine? like.. the whole thing?”

“yeah, silly girl,” satoru brushes a thumb around the center of your forehead in invisible circles.

you’ve grown to get weak with his tender touch every time. cerulean-iced eyes lock against you lovingly, and that’s when that cunning grin spreads at each side of his crooked lips. “think of it as an uh- surprise gift for the new year.”

with a pout, you open your mouth to complain. “satoru- last week, you just bought me-”

“a convertible, and i’d do it again in a heartbeat,” satoru whispers, planting another kiss near your temple.

your incoming words come to an abrupt pause, and the cute speechless look you gave him always made him hum in amusement.

one of the many things satoru liked- no loved about you, was that you were always so humble.

you were forever grateful, but you couldn’t help but be hesitant sometimes at how much he’d constantly spend for you. satoru continued to shower you with compliment though—constantly reassuring you that he wanted to splurge his money on you.

you were living the dream - literally.

embodying the life of a rich girl, a type of rich girl where you’d usually see in cheesy movies or sung in iconic songs by artists like gwen stefani.

even though it’s been a full-blown year, you’ve started to grow accustomed to the sweet luxury of being a sugar baby.

satoru gojo’s sugar baby.

but he wasn’t starting to see you as just his pretty ‘lil sugar baby though, that much was apparent.

satoru didn’t expect you to not only take his money but his heart too.

and he never minded.

he couldn’t put a price on that anyway.

“besides,” he grabs a clear, empty glass and an unopened bottle from underneath the fuzzy, red seat. with a flick, satoru removes the cork that is plugged near the top with just his thumb and middle finger. as he pours a small portion of wine inside, the velvet-colored liquid stains against all sides of the glass.

“what’s mine is yours, baby,” he takes a sip before sighing at the cassis flavor hits against his tastebuds, “ ‘s what my sweet thing deserves.”

as you’re still pouting, the limo continues to drive.

the windows were tinted, but it was clear as day when you looked through them to take a quick peel. as usual, the roads were quite busy with rush hour but it was a smooth ride nonetheless.

however though, you had to admit, you were getting a bit… bored.

satoru sat man spread, both of his wide legs taking so much unnecessary space before he contemptibly sighed again. with one of his arms still wrapped around you, you took a moment to take in his suave, handsome appearance.

he always was draped in nothing but tuxedos—

after all, without the whole sugar daddy side thing, you sometimes forget how satoru was a literal well-known businessman.

he never really went into the specifics of his work, but you knew he was the CEO of some private company.

satoru was a very powerful man, a man with a big net worth … but an even bigger heart.

the shoes that satoru wore were dress shoes of his own brand, of course. in the luminous, glittery lights of the inside of the limousine—the shoes were visibly spit-shined from top to bottom. his suit’s dark black, and the handkerchief that stuck out of his front chest had the imprints of your lipstick on it.

of course he kept that.

his hair..

it’s messily ruffled but somewhat presentable, slicked back as usual with a faint side part. over time, you started to notice how he was growing facial hair too.

it’s subtle, and you’d have to squint but you saw it. you saw how specks of white hair were trying to form down near his chin.

it was attractive nonetheless, and the thought of satoru growing a stubble had you squeezing your thighs together in shame.

after all, he was in his early-thirties so he was bound to grow some facial hair at some point. he’s always been a well-shaved man, but the image forever plagued your mind.

“yeees, sweets.” he snaps you out of your little fantasm, the near-empty wine glass still in his hand. he sits the expensive bottle of ‘screaming eagle’ near the limo’s bar that was covered with dozens of tiny, pretty rhinestones.

“h.. huh?” you stammer, blinking thrice.

shit.

the way you stared at him was like a deer in headlights. caught red-handed!

that same wry grin that stretched so slyly pried at both cracks of his lips before satoru tilted his head. “you’re starin’ y’know,” and you felt his hand placed on your thigh. “is my baby bored?”

“a little,” you admitted, hearing the loud screeching of tire wheels and screaming horns of other cars in the background.

only satoru could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world..

slowly, satoru dragged his pink tongue over his upper lip which was a bit damp from the scarlet-colored wine.

you sucked in a raucous breath - your thoughts turning more ‘n more filthy by the second.

his lips.. they were so perfect, naturally glossed, and forevermore had a plump downward curve. you could stare at them all day, and your eyes widened once a drip of wine started to trickle down the right side of his lip.

“ooh- excuse me. guess ‘m a bit messy today,” he throatily chuckles, feeling the coldness of the red droplet race down his skin. “would you be a doll ‘n lick that up for me, sweetheart?”

“okay-” you comply right away, positioning yourself on his lap.

satoru titters, cocking his head lazily toward the left as you get comfortable. cute, he thinks.

he could already tell how eager you were. also, he didn’t tell you the duration of the ride but it was probably about a good hour.

like hell could you even wait that long.

it felt like time was so cruel - standing still as you inched closer and closer toward his face. satoru laid man spread the entire time, eyeing you closely with his gaze never leaving yours.

he paws a big hand near your waist, hearing your pretty airy breaths pick up.

“stop looking at me like that-”

“aw, is it a crime to stare at my gi-”

satoru’s fatally silenced with a kiss.

it’s a rough one, and you couldn’t wait to run your tongue across the remnants of cherry-flavored wine that now started to drip down his chin.

it tasted sweet - a spicy cherry flavor, and you moaned once his knee aligned itself between your thighs.

his thigh was so bulky too, even underneath the lanky, slender slacks he wore. satoru was a particularly ripped guy in general — you knew his workout routine like the back of your hand, and sometimes he’d even let you do sets with him.

(sets that mainly consisted of you sitting on his back while he did push-ups orrrr sitting on his abs while he used barbells in his private gym)

“mhm~” you moan against his lips, hearing the competitive sounds of teeth rudely smacking against each other in vigorous sync.

each tongue’s on a dangerous mission, desperately trying to dominate the other and you couldn’t help but melt.

your twisting, hot tongue started to wander, creating a slippery snail trail near the crack of his mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip. “sa- satoruu.” you’d breathe, one hand giving his tie a needy, impatient pull.

“heyyy, you know i don’t speak whine,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips for a second.

your lips were already swollen, slickly shining with saliva that could’ve been an easily replaceable substitute for lip gloss. “use those words, sweetheart,” and it was like the more he spoke, the deeper his voice seductively pitched.

the knee that still rested between your sprawled open legs didn’t make things easier either. “tell me what you want ‘n maybe i’ll give it to ya, hm?”

with a huff, you mumble a soft, “you-”

“well yeah, me silly! elaborate for me though.”

“i want- i want you.. i want all of you satoru. right now,” you go into more detail, leaning in to paint a slope of wet kisses down his neck. satoru’s collar was a bit unkempt—some exposed skin showed above his collar which you then brought upon yourself to attack with kisses. “pretty please.”

“hah- but.. you already have me,” he inhales, groaning once he feels you starting to grind against his lap.

satoru’s touch was pure static..

his fingers couldn’t help but mindlessly roam, tickling against your bare skin that protruded through the minuscule squares of your ripped fishnets.

the stare you two shared was just so intimate, and he could almost already smell your lusty, loud arousal..

“mhm- y’know, what i want too?” satoru huskily whispers against your ear, grunting as your hips slooooowly rubbed against his visible boner.

hugely, it stuck out through his jet-black slacks. leave it to you to always make him hard.

“tell me.” you reply with a chastened frown, sliding a hand up his loose button-up. your hand enters underneath his shirt and his skin is so warm that it feels like his entire body is on fire.

right away, your curious palm gets a taste of his hardened abs that were nearly akin to the texture of a damn brick.

rigid, flexing muscles of satoru’s relax at your touch before he grabs a nice chunk of your ass.

“oh, nothing! ‘m just a.. ‘lil thirsty, sweets..”

♡ ♡ ♡

“ohmygod-” you’d squeal, cupping a clammy palm over your mouth.

when satoru said he was thirsty, you surely didn’t expect him to have you hanging out the window with your ass perfectly perked out.

with a single hand, he pulled up your skirt, raising it to the brink of your waistline while dragging your pretty lace panties to the side with a single thumb.

you were partially hanging out the window - safely though, he’d never let you fall.

satoru had an arm wrapped around your waist, one hand sliding down your thigh. vehemently, his tongue swirled circles around your clit before giving it one looooong suck.

his lips puckered, and he could already feel your hips starting to stutter against his mouth.

“mng- ‘toru,” you’d heave, wriggling your ass around his face. the tip of his nose started to rub up and down your slit too, and he’s shamelessly getting a whiff of your candied mess.

he was always so nasty, proudly spitting on your pussy, lapping it up before it dripped onto the thousand-dollar seats.

“mhh- wiggle that ass a little more for me baby, dance with my.. haaah- tongue,” he whispers airily, thumbing a fat finger near your pulsing clit. satoru found it so cute how you’d pulse every time he’d smear slippery circles around your pussy.

you just couldn’t help it!

you’re sucking in each ‘n every breath, sinking the edges of your teeth into your bawled knuckle to suppress your moans.

a strong gust of wind strikes you as the car continues to move, and you’re just meekly smiling at the cars that pass by.

from their points of view… the drivers are just seeing some random girl slightly hanging out a halfway-lowered limousine window.

in reality though,

you were getting eaten out while dozens of cars speedily drove past you.

through your slightly blurred peripherals, you saw satoru’s chauffeur who you remember hearing him address as ‘kento’ earlier, giving you a peer through his side-view mirror. he had his hands firmly on his steering wheel, scoffing to himself with a head shake.

he mumbled something under his breath as he looked away, focusing his browned eyes on the talking GPS that read him the directions to the destination.

from your sweet, repetitive moans, you couldn’t exactly make out what he said but from a quick read of his lips, you’d probably guess it was something like:

“i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

as you’re still hung out the window, your legs part a bit - causing your eyes to widen.

satoru’s slurping you clean, skipping frisky plump fingers down your thigh before cupping his plump lips around your pussy. his head, it moves back and forth, ferociously shifting side to side like a damn madman.

you probably looked soo stupid. your mouth stayed open the entire time with your jaw forever dropped—dangling like an earring.

“fuh- fuuuck,” your trembling voice pitches higher, and you claw a hand near the back of your ass.

tightly gripping at a piece of your ass, it fits around your hand entirely before you turn to look back at satoru.

already, his chin’s got a pretty coat of your juices pouring down his jaw. his tongue was just hungry, wanting far more than just a few sips of his expensive screaming eagle..

you were far sweeter than any beverage, and satoru continuously took big, big gulps.

he treated his lips like a straw, pursing them to suck before slurping every single drop of you clean until you could barely hold your legs open.

“mhm- look at alllll this pretty fuckin’ ass,” he groans, removing your hand that was gripped on your rear.

with a whack! he hits it, humming at the cute ‘lil jolt of your shimmying body.

your skin jiggles in his face instantly, and you feel his curving tongue precisely slow its frantic pace down by the second.

there….

the tip of his pointed tongue stretched itself so far out that it clicked itself against your precious g-spot. “mng- spread y’rself wider, baby. ‘m not done with my.. hah- drink.”

“suh- sssatoru,” you’d drag out your whiny, pathetic words.

your brows formed into a furrow as your hands grabbed onto the edges of the rolled-down window. sweaty, perspiring fingertips imprinted the fogged glass as he licked every wet orifice thoroughly.

thankfully, some music was blasting in the background—seemingly drowning out your constant, pleading whines and whimpers..

satoru’s designer tie even gets a bit wet - you’re drip drip dripping, tears of glossy slick pouring flawlessly from both sides of your legs. he brings a thumb toward your hole, feeling your cute wriggles before spitting down your pussy.

slowly, the webby string trails a straight, sloppy line down and he licks it up — removing his thumb and starting at your hole before lapping his tongue down the bottom part of your pussy.

he’s wholeheartedly feral - animalistic, working his tongue until your brain turns into mush.

eventually, you ended up crawling back into the spacious limousine and landed on your back.

with your legs still spread, satoru lifts your thighs, continuing his feast. “mmph- get back here, sweets. ‘m not haaah- done,” he’d jibe each time he’d squint to see your cute weak pulse up close.

you’re impatient - desperate for your release so much that you could almost taste it..

it tasted sweet with a bit of tang, and the more you fantasized about your inevitable orgasm— the more more more you were starting to blank out all on his tongue.

“mnh- attaaaaa girl, let ‘toru get a nice good sip.” he’s still slurping you, a few excess juices smearing against his cheek.

satoru’s long, white lashes flutter open and close as he relishes in your treacly taste.

you just couldn’t stay still though.

with the way your hips cutely tossed ‘n turned each time his tongue delved inside of your sopping cunt, he’d think your middle name was ‘squirmer.��

time drags by for a looong time, not as long as satoru’s tongue though.. not by a long shot..

it flicked its way through each spot, munching proudly against your clit before your tummy tucked inward. your brain haywires, and with your mouth wide open — the only sounds that escaped were small, labored breaths.

you’re cumming, and your lashes frantically blinked at so many blinks per second. your muscles that were once tense relaxed as you’re finally succumbing to pleasure.

you squealed out that final, harmonic battle cry before your head plopped into the edge of the limo’s seat.

“fuck- fuck, fuuuck,” you’re whimpering, repeating the same swear like a broken record as you feel him grab ahold of your writhing hips.

his tongue’s length curved its way everywhere, creating a path to remember as it made itself known at all tender areas of your pussy.

“uh huh- that’s it, good girl. ride it out, riiiide it out, i gotcha,” he groans, laying his tongue fully flat. it’s a rose-like pink, soddened tastebuds sizzling in contempt once you’re ‘quenching’ his thirst with your sweetened arousal.

buzzing sounds went in and out of your ears as you just released huff after puff through your lungs. satoru’s lips were glossed with nothing but your slick, even more than they already were.

he gives your poor, convulsing clit its last finally smooches before reluctantly breaking away.

“hah- never a dull moment with her,” he licks his lips from top to bottom, grabbing out his lipstick-stained handkerchief before patting underneath his chin. “you okay, sweetheart?”

“ ‘m okay,” you breathe, still feeling tingles surge through every one of your veins that ran down your wobbly, numb limbs. your legs had it the worse.

you barely felt anything, and satoru helped you back to your feet.

it was a limo, so it wasn’t like you could exactly stand but you sufficed by crouching just below the fuzzy-made hood.

satoru lies slouched back - giving his lap a few playful pats before tilting his head at you. “c’mere, sweet thing,” and his voice was dripping with erotic silk.

his ocean-strong eyes zero down at your body, trailing up up up before eventually stopping just about your waistline.

your skirt was now off — pulled to the floor and so were your panties. you only had your matching blouse on. you got an idea though, and satoru watched you get on your knees. “oh..?”

“ ‘toru,” you speak in shortened puffs, still trying to get over your recent teeth-shattering orgasm. every sensitive axon and nerve located in your body was screaming at you, aching for more stimulation as time passed.

as your hands casually spread his long legs wider across the cushioned seats, you hummed. “remember those waist beads you ordered me a few weeks back?”

“mhm,” he nods, eyes never darting away from your wriggling body for a second.

satoru wondered what your game was.

as he was trying to prevent himself from smiling, he was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe you were starting to get just a liiiiitle bit spoiled.

as his legs were fully sprawled apart, you brought your hands toward the hem of the designer blouse that stuck against your skin. you honestly lost count of just how many clothes satoru’s bought you within the past year.

he watches closely - zeroing down at your figure, nipping on his lip as he stares at you leisurely pulling the piece of clothing off of you.

satoru’s seen your skin countless times, but there was just something about your body that he just couldn’t get enough of.

couldn’t get enough of you..

if he was being honest, he could stare at you all day.

“look. it fits perfectly,” you speak in a sweet tone, your thighs stuck together as you were still dripping from the inner crevices. you could feel yourself throbbing, and it took everything in you to not let out a moan.

satoru tsks, kissing his teeth once he’s now exposed to your skin.

the damn beads,

they wrapped around your waist and indeed fit your entire torso. his eyes studied the gold that went around your raised hips, whistling once he saw those two crystallized initials - his initials.

‘G.S’

the small two letters hung on one waist bead that was drooped low near your naval and an extra twin pair near the charms behind your back. “fuuuck- know that’s right,” satoru huffs, his breathing starting to get a bit heavy.

“all mine, heh- looks so damn pretty on you,” and as his eyes continued to meander down your skin, satoru’s head rests back against the softly cushioned seat. “hm- how ‘bout you model for me? show off that gorgeous body a little more f’ me.”

“say ‘please’,” you’d get on his lap, wrapping your arms around him. satoru looks up at you with a mere pouting scowl, a hand instinctively attaching itself to your hip.

“pleaaase, oh-pleaseeee sweets. don’t tease me too bad, you’re bein’ a bit of a spoiled girl right now,” he whispers, bringing wet, cold lips toward the corner of your neck. you moaned, feeling satoru’s free hand strum a few fingers down your waist beads.

they clank clank clanked, creating pretty jingle sounds at each faint movement before you started to move your hips.

“goddamn-” he holds in a breath, practically wordless as his eyes continued to rove.

briskly, you slowly turned yourself around, teasingly popping your hips to the dropping beats of the song that played through the limo’s speakers.

satoru’s suddenly short of breath, circling a thumb around the left cheek of your ass. he’s so hard, and you could feel it the more you rubbed your ass right up against thaaat particular spot.

he sucks his teeth once more, grunting as he feels the cloth knead against your skin so good..

“woman, you’re bein’ such a bratty tease right now..” and he could taste that round, large lump forming near the very back of his throat.

satoru shivers as your hands place on the crown of his knees, and you’re starting to rock rock rock back ‘n forth his throbbing boner. “hmph. the things i let ‘cha get away with, lucky ‘m not.. haah- fuck, bending ya over my lap, baby.”

“you talk a lot for a guy with a boner this hard, ‘toru.” you shrug, continuing the sensual jerking of your hips.

he’s grunting at every swift turn of your body, hearing his heart loudly thump through his ears.

the limo’s speed picks up a few miles and you could hear the grumbling from underneath the vehicle as you stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“mmh- fine, since you said please.”

as you’re still facing the other way, you reach for his buckle with your fingers brushing near the cold straps. you couldn’t see, so he grabbed your hand—guiding you where to unbuckle his slacks.

“f.. fuck, hurry up. you rubbin’ against me isn’t helping matters at all, y’know,” he tries to laugh but it comes out very dry.

satoru just wanted to be inside you, making you remember your place with a few sloppy strokes.

you giggled, hearing his pants and boxers sliiiide down to his ankles with a thud before jostling your rear way back against his leaning cock. it hung so cutely, and its tip was swollen with veins protruding at a few girthy sides.

with satoru still having a hold of your hand, he makes you touch the leaking head. “ooh,” you hum, twirling a thumb around his tender frenulum.

as you do so, he moans out the sluttiest moan, pretty white lashes squeezing shut for about three seconds to savor this moment.

“heh.. little girl,” he gutturally prowls, aligning his dick in between the crack of your fleshy mounds. it’s very hard, and you hummed at the warmth he provided. “go on then.. ride me in reverse, sweets. this the ride you wanted all along, hm?”

“yeaah,” you played along, almost seeing the weary smirk unfurl across his lips as he spoke.

you couldn’t wait any longer either.

you were throbbing persistently, every fiber of your being longing for satoru to ease his way inside of your pretty, sobbing cunt.

he was so big that your hand could barely wrap around the entity of his length. instantly, your palms met with various veins as you raised your hips moderately.

his vermillion-shaded tip carefully hovered over your dripping hole, and satoru’s just heavily breathing at your stilled body.

“mngh-” you released a rough, jagged breath once you were slowly making your way down on his cock.

like usual, you’re presented with that loving tiiiiight stretch that lasts for about a good four seconds.

satoru’s tip alone was big, and it pummeled through your insides as his inches started to leisurely disappear.

it’s such a lewd scene - a scene he wouldn’t mind replaying over ‘n over again in his head..

your pussy sings out sloshes of wet high notes in harmony, trying to take in his weighty shaft.

your mouth opens up on its own, and you’re breathing out colorful swears of ‘ohhh fuuuck’ ‘s as you continue to sink your way down.

from the both of you, countless breathy breaths were drawn from both raspy lungs as the mouthwatering penetration continued.

it felt like a squeeze pinching near your insides, tickling around you from the inside before adding pounds of pressure pressure pressure..

your hands go back to being placed on his knees, whimpering as his slick cock eases its way inside of your pussy. spongy, clamping walls hugged around him like a vice and your teeth were starting to feel that familiar chatter.

“god- always s- so fuckin’ big, ‘toru,” you moan, your bratty ‘lil façade shortly faltering once he’s finally buried balls fuckin’ deep.

the pit of your tummy was constantly heaving, cowardly sucking itself in and out at the sheer weight of his size before you eventually relaxed.

“perfect fit for my perfect… hah- girl.” he grunts, taking a quick peer down at your unbalanced thighs that struggled to move at first.

gradually, your hips started to move and greeted satoru’s lap with a sharp, rude slam. once you started to adapt to a rhythm, your hips rolled and rolled.

“agh- that’s i.. iiiiit,” he choked on his saliva, playing with the waist beads that danced against your torso as you moved.

satoru moans, feeling his fat base smush its way against your ass once you sat down. your hips were reeling, winding back into his pelvis like a wind-up toy.

with parched, hot skin amongst skin - the sounds echoed against the limo, nearly sounding over the music that played in the background.

satoru’s watching as you plop straight back into him before you sprightly wriggle your hips in a seductive circle.

“my, ain’t you a naughty girl..” he tosses his head back in overwhelming rapture, feeling his dick twitch inside you as the sloppy sounds continue.

it was hard not to hear - if it was anything satoru knew about your pussy, he knew that it was always, always vocal with him..

you’re slamming back against his lap every time, squeezing your palms against the crowns of his knees with your body twirling and falling back into his inviting lap.

if you kept riding him like that, he’d really be head over heels.

“ugh- yeah, girl. ride it, ride this dick like it’s yours because it fuckin’ is,” satoru grunts, feeling your cunt tighten for a second at his exact words. “heh- did my messy girl like that? like hearin’ that ‘m yours, sweetheart?”

“mhm,” you’d nod with your lips clamped shut.

he’s just so big, stretching through your insides with such ease. the once slow and steady beats of your heart were now thump thump thumping!

satoru’s bulbous-shaped tip had a hooked upturning curve, and fuck did you feel every sloping curve as you bounced up ‘n down on his cock.

it’s so good that your mouth’s pathetically watering from the inside, and you’re already starting to feel that burning sensation electrify through your aching, stretched muscles.

“mngh- look at this body, s… so damn-” and he pauses, clenching his jaw at the sloppy wet feeling of your barriers bear-hugging around his cock.

you’re just working your hips like it’s a full-time job, throwing them around in a circle so fast that even satoru could barely keep up.

with thighs upon thighs upon thighs, your skin sticks against his like glue. a trail of colorless slick smears down satoru’s leg and he moans at the loud slaps of zealous, clapping skin.

you’re sticky still, and he’s moaning louder once the speed of your hips quickens.

“yeah? yeah, better- fuckin’-ride-me,” and even though his voice faintly cracks, satoru still manages a sort of poised, cocky persona.

multiple ‘encouraging’ swats hit against the cheeks of your ass and you’re whining, putting your all into the movements of your jerking body. satoru’s snowy brows contort before he gives your waist beads a soft tug.

“do it, fuck me, baby. ‘n while you’re at it..” and as you’re still moving your hips, you feel a bit of paper rain down your back that’s starting to perspire with sweat.

“fuck-” satoru grunts smokily, staring as hundred dollar bills fall down your bare spine. “forgot ‘ta give you your allowance, might as well give it to you now.”

“hngh- satoruuu,” you whined, his cock hitting its way through every spot. it french-kisses near your clit before passionately making out with your cervix.

it located both spots easily, and the feeling had your toes curling inside of your four-inch heels.

satoru ended up tossing those same bills down your back, staring as it prettily fell down your body before landing on his lap and the limo’s cottony carpet.

“ ‘m gonna cum i think,” you moaned, slowing your turning hips in hypnotic, carnal arcs. satoru’s hands were brought to your waist with two thumbs pressed at each side of your hips. “ ‘m cummin’ satoru.”

“me too, s.. sweets,” he swallows, hissing silently at the unsteady bucking of your bouncing ass.

your rear jiggled at each slamming thrust, ricocheting against his thighs and it was just so mesmerizing to watch.

satoru’s feeling the scorching tip of his cock grow hot, and he’s starting to feel all types of contractions arise within his muscles. “god- tell me where to tell me where.”

“inside,” you moaned, bringing your hands toward your chest to cup to bouncing tits. you squeezed them, smearing a thumb around your hardened nipples before making yourself even more aroused.

it’s just so much to process.

your rutting hips, the loud squelches of your pussy, satoru’s dick driving through you repeatedly.. oh, you were in a daze.

“f- fuuuuck. be a… hah- good girl ‘n take it all then.” he groans, elated euphoria swelling within him.

you stuck against his lap so good, slickly sliding your ass back before going forward, then back into his pelvis again.

your movements alone left such a good taste in his mouth, and once he feels himself about to burst - he fuckin’ bursts.

a massive load spurts out of satoru, shooting deeply into your fluttering womb as your hips come to a freezing still.

you’re cumming too - whimpering as you’re gushing down on his cock while being absolutely filled.

wads ‘n wads of milky, gooey cum floods inside of you, plugging you to the fullest. you’re both moaning lowly, rocking against each other in rushed unison before you arch forward.

your ass was fully bent over, and satoru stared openly as he was still shooting such deep, frothy amounts inside of you.

you looked so pretty like this that he couldn’t help but mentally take a picture, widely peering at the foamy droplets of cum that started to trickle their way down his overwhelmed base—creating a sparkling white ring.

it’s still as thick - still as veiny, and satoru makes you raise your hips ever-so-slightly.

doing so, he stares at your soddened pussy that’s lewdly spitting out a few heaps of cum before hearing that cute wet ‘plop!’

“fuckin’ dirty girl..” he huffs, one hand softly caressing your waist beads. he takes a glance at the ‘G.S.’ initials that were engraved near the back side of the many other charms, and he sighs.

right as you’re pulled up to where his creamy tip was juuuust about to slide away from your soused opening, satoru gives your stuffed pussy a soft pat.

“don’t know who’s dirtier…. herrrr,” he mumbles, swabbing a thumb around your cum-covered hole before bringing it up to his mouth.

with a wet smacking ‘ccht’ of satoru’s lips coming together—he licks his thumb clean, cooing silently at the taste of himself like the filthy, filthy man he was. “or you.”

♡ ♡ ♡

after many, many positions, you found yourself losing multiple rounds with your shallow breath as if even breathing was a mere contest. he’s had you in position after position, folding you like a freshly baked pretzel. it’s almost like the two of you weren’t literally in a limousine.

you hoped his chauffeur nanami didn’t hear. that would’ve been well, embarrassing.

the drive felt like forever.. but, you honestly didn’t want it.. this to end.

you’re a mess, stuffed to the uttermost fullest with ribbons of satoru’s freshly hot cum messily tearing down every slick crevice of your thighs.

currently, satoru had you in one of his favorite positions.

doggy.

part of the reason why he loved it so much was mainly because of the perfect, jiggling view.

your ass - he loved seeing how it would react from each rude smack, swatting his palm over and over again at your cute, tender skin. the pads of your hands pressed firmly into the limo’s seats as he’s just giving you the pound of a damn lifetime.

“mngh!” you’d whine out, drooling from the sides of your jittery, spit-slick lips that refused to stay shut.

he’s effortlessly reaching all the right areas, swiftly pumping his way past that cute taut ring of your entrance that he’s grown to love.

that brief tight stretch nearly makes him lose his mind, and satoru then brings his hands toward your waist. “right there, right fuckin’ th— mmph!”

“shhh, you’re gonna.. hah- miss the best part, sweets,” the white-haired man cups a hand over your mouth.

slow strokes - deeper thrusts..

your eyes rolled ‘n rolled back, gasping against his palm once he sneaks a hand in between your wet thighs. with your waist beads tickling against his wrist, satoru gives your pussy a soft smack.

your wetness ‘splashes’ against the center of his hand, and it even pops out a cute sound too.

“uuugh- ‘m gonna… cum agaiiin,” you’d raise your ass in the air just a bit more, your voice turning more whiny within seconds.

your words were still a bit muffled with his hand covering your mouth, but he still made out your whiny, inaudible words—just barely. .

the sounds of fierce, sharp hips brutally clashing against skin every time made him groan. it’s a booming resounding ‘pop!’ or ‘pap!’ noise every time that makes your entire body ring instead of just your ears.

his cock’s searching through your wet, gripping walls as if it had some sort of life purpose.

“hah- me t.. too, sweetheart,” and fuck, satoru’s drowning in his sweat. “phew-” satoru brings the back of his wrist to wipe some from his forehead. glancing down, he stares at your jouncing ass before giving you one, snappingly deep thrust.

“pussy’s a fuckin’ workout- oh shiiiiit.” and satoru’s feeling you clamp clamp clamp down on him, giving his dick the work of its life.

you could feel the individual staticky pulses of your clit signaling messages to you that you’re just so close and you’re nearly salivating inside of your mouth.

soooo good.. for a moment you forgot the two of you were still in the back of a limousine.

he’s fucking you so good that you could barely think straight.

satoru’s still playing with your pussy, giving it spanks in between his robust thrusts.

his rotund tip beat red, an oxblood blush of red as he continued to ram a heart-shaped sloppy kiss toward your clit.

at that moment, your legs cutely retreated and your chest collapsed forward. “feels s.. sooo good satoru, ngh- ‘toruuu!”

as your body spasmed at the onslaught of his reckless, sloppy thrusts - your hips were all the way raised against his lap.

you’re losing track of thoughts as you’re harshly creaming down his shaft, murmuring out cute little babbles of ‘ooohs’ once you feel his angle deepen.

satoru brings a hand down your fleshy back, staring at your skin that was wetly decorated with sweat while studying the goosebumps that ran down your spine.

“ ‘m gonna.. hah- cum,” he groans, a few stubby fingers thrumming down the gold waist beads that wrapped around your waist.

he brings his thumb toward the tiny ‘G.S.’ initials before pressing his honed-shaped pelvis wholly into you with just a single, barbaric thrust.

“all mine, my pretty… hah- wife.”

wife?

you heard that — you definitely heard it, but part of you wondered if maybe satoru was just overly pussy drunk as usual.

but the thought alone - the thought of actually being his wife of satoru gojo, your sugar daddy, didn’t seem too bad.

as the image of you walking down the aisle crossed your mind, your throbbing brought you straight back into orgasmic reality.

“wait.. hnng- pull out,” you’d moan, another idea popping into your head. instead of satoru usually finishing inside, you had a better idea.

“haah- ‘kay,” he pants, his snapping hips working overtime as they continually mercilessly plunge deep into your heated core.

his rhythm was far slower, but his thrusts were always in such a hurried frenzy.

he’s close - so so close.

you’re still covered with his cum from before from the legs down, and it paints such a pretty canvas on you.

a lewd, erotic canvas maybe..

quickly, satoru ends up pulling out with a hand wrapped around his cock that painfully throbbed. it scrunched up a bit at the sudden coldness, already missing your clingy warmth before you flip over.

“h.. hm?”

“ ‘toru, put ‘em between here.” you spoke in a hushed tone, sinking your knees into the limo’s velveteen-made seats.

he hungrily stares at you with nothing but lust surrounding the entirety of his rounded, dilated pupils. at your sweet, breathy word of ‘here,’ you brought two hands up to your breasts.

“naughty… temptress,” satoru clicks his tongue. aligning his swollen dick in between the crack of your sweat-dripping chest, it easily sliiiiiides its way through.

he watches intently as you squeeze your tits together, glancing up at him with those pretty, siren eyes of yours that were starting to droop.

“mmh,” and as his tip disappears between the slot of your chest, you hang your head down, flicking your tongue across the tender slit of his shaft.

“f- fuck, ‘m gonna cum. can’t- hold it anymore, sweets,” satoru groans, his words so guttural ‘n low that they sounded almost like a growl.

he knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer, not when you were on your knees—stuffing his dick right between your perked tits.

he’s sloppily starting to thrust his cock in and out between the valley of your breasts and felt himself throb at each cute jounce they created amongst each other.

so …. soft.

satoru’s achy tip was forming into an angry shade of bloodshot red, and the entirety of his shaft was smoldering from the stimulation. after a few long milliseconds though—he finds himself shooting white blanks again.

he’s fucking between your tits as you held them together, spraying a nice sum of his load onto your chest. you gasp, a bit landing on your lip and you lick it.

satoru’s moaning - no, grunting as he’s finishing against your breasts. he drags a shaky hand through his tousled, white hair before letting off a deep, heavy sigh.

“ohhh… fuck,” he grumbles, the tips of his ears burning a fiery pink.

his limp cock now remains idle, still buried between your tits before you slide your tongue across the leaking creamed tip.

it’s so glossy, dribbling from all sides with his pasty mess plastered on the upper part of your chest. “didn’t know i had.. such a dirty sweethe- fuck.”

satoru pauses for theatrics — holding his breath, thinking he was still cumming, but he wasn’t.

his mind was simply playing tricks, and his jaw clenched once you lapped up the remnants of bittersweet tasting cum that splattered on you. you used your thumb to reach the spots your tongue couldn’t, and once you were finished, satoru bent down to pull you into a fervent, deep kiss.

you moaned against his lips as the limousine still created miles upon miles. you lost track of time, but you’d guess it’s probably been well over an hour's drive.

“mng-” satoru grunts into your lips, feeling your arms wrap around him. he still had his button-up shirt on the entire time along with his suit just above his torso. he’s tasting himself on your lips, grunting once he felt your hand tug on his ruffled black tie.

your tongue was sticky, swirling a circular pattern around the inside of his mouth before you sucked on his.

satoru allowed you to make him get underneath you, and he felt your legs crawling on top of him.

as you’re both still deeply making out — fighting each other with sharp slaps of teeth smacking against each other, you gingerly pull away.

“i’m your wife now?”

“h.. hm?”

“earlier,” you lick near the corner of his lip. “you said ‘m your pretty wife.”

satoru gives you a sleazy lopsided grin. he looked so pussy drunk that he almost forgot about that tiny piece of dialogue that spouted from his lips.

“ah, i did call you my wife, didn’t i, sweets?” and as a thumb caresses around your cheek, he hoarsely whispers. “well, do you want to be?”

bringing a wet, torrid kiss toward his bottom crooked lip, you hummed. “i do.”

“wish you would’ve told me sooner though,” he sheepishly says, giving his tie a few meek pulls. “i could’ve proposed the right way but.. this is fine too, i gues-.”

“shhh-” you silence him with yet another barrage of kisses, cupping his face.

satoru grunts, hearing the little jangles of your waist brands yet again as your hips laboriously swayed against him.

your forehead is pressed against his and its hit with a bunch of sweat from satoru.

satoru moans from your ardent, vehement kisses, his lips being left all plump, reddened, and not to mention swollen all because of you.

his dick twitches—a prominent vein striking near the left side as you steadily moved your dripping pussy against it in slow, ravishing rocks. “lie back,” you whispered, playfully pushing him back against the seat.

satoru reclines back with a ‘hmph’ and he raises a silvery brow at your audacity. “lie back ‘n let your fiancé ride you again.”

“heh.. yes, mrs. gojo.”

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Nighty-Night!

Ellie Williams x Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: What sleeping and waking up next to Ellie would look like. (Fluff)

Warning: Mentions of sex like one time?

A/N: Enjoy, I wrote this in class! It’s short and rushed 🙁

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Soft breaths played in the background as you and your girlfriend huddled together into the sheets. It was early winter and late at night, specifically midnight. The weather was perfect. Blue light beeming in from the open window of your girlfriend’s window, it shed light to the dimly lit room. Being the only thing that was on was her mini lamp. Which provided little.

Ellie laid beside you, one leg inbetween yours as she nuzzled into your arms. Facing each other, you wrapped your arms around her and pulled the blanket to her shoulder. She looked like a baby, sleeping like it was her first time.

Your girlfriend had joined you a few minutes ago, why? Because she needed to finish one last round of her game. She was never one for sleeping early, she had rounds to finish. After a stressful match, she quickly turned off her console and came to nestle up beside you— even though she was practically laid ontop of you.

With her body going completely still and relaxed in your arms, she laid happily. Content with having you with her, playing with her hair and occasionally pecking her freckled face. Ellie loved these moments, when you both knew you loved and cared for each other without needing to utter a word. It was sweet.

Your girlfriend was on the verge of sleep, holding onto a thread— more so you— to keep herself awake. She needed to feel you, to not miss another second without you. Her arms tightened around you, causing you to shift closer ‘til the two of you were fully flushed against each other. Ellie’s warm forehead rested on your shoulder as you brushed through her hair. The woody scent of her shampoo fluttered into your nose and you graciously took it all in.

Slowly but surely, Ellie had given up on staying awake. And you couldn’t keep yourself from spoiling her adorable little face with a few extra kisses here and there. On her nose, cheek, forehead, and lips. On the last one, she reciprocated, kissing you back with the little energy she had. A small smile then appeared on her lips before she gave you one last peck.

You’d always had a thing for the way she showed affection, showed that she cared. Even though most of the times she was a sassy little brat, Ellie had these moments where she’d completely melt into you. Showing you her vulnerable and loving side.

“Nighty-night, Babe..” Breaking the silence, she whispered into you with softness in her tone and raspiness in her voice. “Goodnight..” And there it was, that completely relaxed and peaceful look on her, usually tense, face. (Even tenser when she was playing on the console.)

The birds outside chirped with the rising sun. That was you and Ellie’s natural alarm clock. Groggily opening your heavy eyelids, you meet the sight of Ellie asleep and ontop of you. She looked adorable and you couldn’t help but squeeze her squishy cheeks. You could lay there and watch her sleep forever and ever, and ever.

“Morning, sleepyhead..” You whispered out, fingers tangled into your girlfriend’s hair as you tried your best to brush our her disheveled tangles. Knowing Ellie, even facing your back towards her could get you in trouble. Whining would fill the room and she’d complain your ears off. She was needy as a ‘fucker in the mornings, needing to be in your bubble, in your personal space— which she claimed shouldn’t exist in the relationship.

After a few minutes of contently watching your girlfriend, she began to stirr and grumbled to herself. Green eyes landed on your face, admiring you for a second too long before she shifted to nuzzle into your neck. “Hey..” The raspiness in her voice was endearingly attractive, but you kept your focus on her and watched as she pulled the blanket over her exposed shoulder.

“How’d ya’ sleep?” Was the first question you asked her, “Awsome sause, you?..” She shot back, mainly in affection and confirmation.

The only reason Ellie had been sleeping early was because of you. Having someone to depend on was a first for your girlfriend, so letting you wash the stress off her body was appreciated. So much. And ever since you’d moved in with her, she’d forgotten about her console. Rarely on it, she claimed she’d rather annoy you. “What’s that?” She’d ask, peaking from behind you to see what you were cooking up for her. Even reading had become difficult— “So, I’m guessing that book’s more important than your baby?” She’d frown, feigning loneliness so you’d baby her. Speaking of babying, her favourite nickname that you’d given her was that. Baby.

Ellie knew she could be the clingiest person on earth whenever she wanted to be, laying ontop of you and cutting off circulation from your arms. You found it painfully adorable. “Just as awesome as you, Babe..” That was ninety-nine point ninty-nine percent false.

“Mm-hm.. this bed isn’t the best for two people. Surprised you slept good..” She was right, the mattress was definitely loved. A little too much.— Having sex on it multiple times probably wasn’t the best go. “Maybe you need a new one.” You murmured, playing with Ellie’s auburn locks. She let out a soft chuckle and shifted closer. “I’ll look online, pretty..”

Oh, and she definitely would. When it came to you, she didn’t fuck around. As they say, “If she wanted to, she would” Damn right. Ellie gave you everything you could ever want, even though it wasn’t anything too much. Logically, both of you had no business buying expensive watches and purses, especially as young adults. That didn’t stop her from buying you flowers almost every week from her drive home from work. She’d buy you the world if she could.

With a soft huff she raised her head, exposing her groggy expression and messed-up hair. You didn’t tease her, just stared deeply into her eyes, just as she was you. No words were needed in the moment, just comforting silence and warmth. Ellie reached out to gently run her knuckles over your cheeks and stopped by your ear, then her thumb ran down the side of your neck and stopped by your collarbone. Leaving your skin to tingle and your eyes to flutter.

Being stubborn and needy, Ellie had her ways of being affectionate and gentle. Especially in the morning, it was like she had this switch. One moment she was whining and desperately trying to keep you in bed, then, the next moment, she was quietly admiring you. Maybe that was a less.. obnoxious way of her keeping you next to her. It worked everytime, so you really couldn’t complain.

I LITERALLY CANNOT STOP WRITING ANOUT ELLIE, LIKE ITS SO BAD ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IS HER!!?!??!? AND NOW IM GOING ON PINTEREST TO FIND WAYS TO BETTER MY FANFICS!!!!! Anyways someone save me from this curse.

[logoleptic-since-06]

Lessons in Love

In which Satoru Gojo seems to fall for Megumi's new tutor.

MDNI

Summary: You look for a private student to tutor for some extra money and end up as the private tutor of Megumi Fushiguro, a high school student and the adoptive son of Satoru Gojo.

CW: Non-Sorcerer AU, not proofread, Satoru is a single parent, kind of bratty Megumi, mentions of death

Part 1

"Hello, is this Ms. Y/L/N?"

You put down the pen you were marking papers with. "Uh yeah, that's me. Who's speaking?"

The feminine voice waves through the phone, "I'm Yui, I saw your advertisement for private tutoring online. Are you still looking for students?"

Your attention is now fully on the call, the half-marked exam sheet almost forgotten, "Yes, yes, I am."

"Great," Yui replied, "Are you open to tutoring a 9th grader?"

"Yeah, any grade from 5 to 10 is okay."

"Alright then, could you give me some information on how you conduct uour sessions?"

"Alright so, I'm a teacher myself, so I am free any time after 5 PM. I can come by your house for two hours, thrice a week."

"That sounds perfect. When can you start?"

You glance at the calendar placed on your desk. "It's the start of the month today, I can come by your house at around 6 PM, if that's okay with you."

"Okay then, I'll text you the address. The student's name is Megumi Fushiguro. If the security stops you, just tell them you are his new tutor."

And that's how you end up in front of the 5-Star hotel. Your student lives at the penthouse of this hotel. If extravagance had a look, it would be this place. With long iron gates securing the entrance, the high technology security, and the almost shiny exterior make the place look like something straight out of a wealth-centric movie. 

As you step into the penthouse, you are greeted with a kind looking woman, "You must be Ms. Y/L/N. Megumi sir is in his study room."

She leads you to the room and knocks at the door. "Come in," a voice grumbles from inside.

As you step in, you are greeted with a teenage boy with dark messy hair. He sits up straight on his chair when he spots you. He gestures at the chair next to him, asking you to sit. You have dealt with multiple brats in your teaching life, but something about him screams spoiled to a whole new level. Maybe it's the private school effect.

"Hi," you plaster a smile on your face, hoping it masks your insecurity, "I'm Y/N. You new tutor."

He gives you the slightest nod, "Megumi."

You sigh. This isn't going to be easy.

---

Two hours, 4 subjects, and the littlest conversation later, the tutoring session comes to an end.

"So we can end the session for today," you tell him, packing up your things, "Can I talk to your parent?"

"My parents are dead," he says bluntly, taking you by surprise. "You can talk to Gojo. He's... my guardian. He should be home by now." He gets up from his chair and leaves the study room, causing you to follow him subconsciously.

Soon, you find yourself in the lavish living room, a large chandelier hangs at the centre of the ceiling, beneath it is a long velvet couch, and on top of the couch is a man sitting.

Not just any man.

The most beautiful man you have ever laid your eyes on.

His white hair falls on his face- the same face that seems to carry the most charming smile known to mankind. His eyes... his blue eyes so bright even the Sun would be jealous. He gets up from the couch and approaches you, offering his hand.

You shake it almost hastily. Such pretty hands... wonder what it would feel like around your neck-

FOCUS.

"I'm Satoru Gojo," his smooth voice ripples through the air, breaking the silence.

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Megumi's new tutor."

His smile doesn't fade as he tilts his head sideways, "So I've heard. You'd spoken to my assistant earlier this morning, yes? Yui?"

"Oh," you say, remembering the previous conversation, "Yes, I had spoken to her."

"Great. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"That wouldn't be necessary-" Megumi begins, but shuts up immediately as Gojo flashes his dimpled smile at him.

"How about you go back to your room, Megumi?" Megumi rolls his eyes subtly and leaves you both alone.

"Please, have a seat, Ms. Y/L/N." He tells you, gesturing at the velvet couch. You oblige politely.

"So, Yui tells me you are a teacher?" He asks you.

"Yes," you inform him, "I teach at a middle school."

"Ah, I see. And you are capable of tutoring a high school student?"

"Yes, yes, I am. I've been teaching since I graduated college. It's been almost 4 years now."

He nods thoughtfully. "Megumi can be... difficult at times. He's a smart kid, and he took a few advanced classes. But now he's struggling to keep up."

You nod. "Yes, he's told me that."

"Good, good. So you'll be here thrice a week for a two hour session, am I right?"

"Right."

"And Megumi is your only student?"

"Right."

He gives you a cheeky smile. "Relax, this isn't an interrogation. I'm just making sure." 

You hope with all your being that there's no blush crept on your face as you chuckle nervously. "Yeah, of course." 

He checks the time before continuing. "It's late. Will you able to get back alone?"

"Yes, it won't be a problem, thanks for asking." 

"Do you live far?"

"A little."

"Allow me to drop you off."

"What?! No! It's fine, really."

"I insist."

"You really don't have to, but thanks."

---

And that's how you find yourself in the passenger seat of Satoru Gojo's car.

A/N: This is the first time I'm sharing any of my writing online, and I know this isn't even that good. But I'm trying to get back into writing actively and I thought sharing it would motivate me further.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

[he4dliner]

SUMMER'S ON rafe cameron x reader - camp counselors!au

cw: (1.2k) foul language (don't curse in front of kids, guys) weird teenager angst & no romance in this one (i think i'll make this a series...) rafe is a jerk, maybe he likes you??? snotty spoiled children (serious warning)

a/n: i tried to reread this & catch spelling/grammar/plot mistakes, but i can't promise anything lol (my first post!!!! reblogs are vvvvv appreciated!!!)

© HE4DLINER on tumblr. Do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. Do not use my ideas without credit.

It was only the third week of working at the rich-kid sleepaway summer camp and already the kids here were pretending to be sick. 

You’d decided to take this job cause it was gonna pay well and 6-year-olds couldn’t possibly be that difficult to handle. 

Especially at a fun summer camp.

Right?

Wrong. 

Not all, but a good chunk of the anklebiters were spoiled brats. And on top of that, your co-counselor used to be one himself.  Still is, actually.

The co-counselor in question?

Rafe Cameron. 

Notoriously rich asshole. 

Why, of all places, would he decide to work at a summer camp?  Did he just want to corrupt an entire generation of kids? 

He certainly wasn’t trying to change their behavior. Rafe gave the kids whatever they wanted to end tantrums, much to your chagrin. Hardly helping the children learn what the word “no” means. 

Unfortunately, he was the only counselor on duty with keys to the nurse’s cabin when three grubby kids decided to come whine to you about ‘being sick”.

And by 'on duty', it meant he was leaning on the wall of the Mess hall building, on his phone. 

He was supposed to be back at the soccer field, helping- rather- doing his job. 

But of course not. 

"Cameron.” You tried after a minute of him ignoring your presence, holding the hand of the two girls grumbling by your side, the boy walking behind you, literally on your heels. “Need some help here.”

Rafe didn’t look up as he continued typing. “Is someone on fire?”

“No.”

“Bleeding?”

You had to take a breath to control your urge to just dump the kids at his feet and let him deal with their fake sniffles. “Cameron, just unlock the nurse’s for me.”

Looking up with his head first, then dragging his eyes from his phone he sighed. “Damn, alright.” Rafe whistled to himself- asshole- as he slipped his phone in his pocket. One of the girls by your side, Avery, eyed it. 

“Mister Cameron, do you play games on your phone?”

“Mister Cameron” shot her a look so foul that you almost felt bad for her, but she then immediately started whining again, “I wanna go home,” which then made the other two kids join. Rafe, of course, didn’t bother to fuckin help, save for silently unlocking and opening the door to the nurse office- again, he was being paid to do this. 

The two girls flung themselves at the beanbag chairs inside and the boy quite literally dropped himself to the ground, all three of the 6-year-olds moaning and groaning over some make-believe maladies. You didn’t even bother to check if Rafe stayed to help you. 

“All of you, go sit on the blue chairs, I’m going to take your temperatures.” 

The three guilty whiners, Avery, Nicolette, and Braxton, all made various sounds of what could only be described as overdramatic sniffles, slinking over to the chairs and pulling themselves onto them. 

“Here,” a voice said, handing over a pack of one-use thermometers. 

You blinked, and with a glance up, your eyes widened in surprise to see Rafe still there. “…thanks.” You took it, wondering what he was on about.  

You had each child put one under their tongue.  and as expected: all were within normal range.  So, you responded to a text of another counselor asking if they were leaving for the day with a “no.” 

“Okay, back to the field, soccer is still goin’ on,” you said to them, ushering the children out, hyper-aware of Rafe’s silent presence in the room. 

Shortly after returning the children to the soccer game, you realized you’d left your phone in the nurse's office. On the way back to retrieve it, Penelope- one of the few sweet kids in your group, ran up to you. “Miss, I feel sick.” She mumbled. 

You sighed- you just did this with three other kids. 

But, pressing a hand to her forehead, your posture stiffened when you realized her head was actually burning up. 

“Well, uh- let's go inside, sweetheart,” you murmured, ushering her into the nurse’s office- Rafe looking up from his phone at the two of you. 

He hadn’t moved since you’d left.

You sat Penelope on one of the chairs and unlocked a cabinet, grabbing one of the thermometer packs. With a bit- a lot- of struggle attempted to pull one of the plastic-sealed baggies from the rest. 

“Never thought I’d see a plastic bag win a fight with a woman.” Rafe’s voice came, and you didn’t need to turn to know he had a stupid smirk on his face. 

“Care to help, for once?” You held them out halfway, not expecting for him to walk over and actually rip off one of the packs with his teeth, and hand the freed thermometer to you. 

“My pleasure.” He muttered before you could make out a stammered thanks, and sat himself on one of the kid-sized bean bags. 

“Alright, honey, say ‘ah’.” You turned back to Penelope. Fever of 99.7. Damn. “She’s sick,” you called to the man-child in the corner. 

“I’ll call it in.” He sighed. 

“I’ll do it, she’s in my group.” 

“Thought you wanted me to help?” 

“Yeah, but my job is to call in sick kids from my group.” 

“...Fine. Have it your way.” 

See? Spoiled child. Can’t play nice for more than a minute. 

With a few more minutes, you called the office and Penelope’s mother, and sent her to go wait with the actual nurse ’til her mom got here. “Bye-bye Mister Rafe.” Penelope mumbled. “Bye-bye,” she added to you, hugging your leg. Aw. 

“Bye sweetheart, feel better.” You stroked her hair and softly sent her walking to the nurse, and finally, you could leave. 

You grabbed your phone again and were going through it as you walked, before your head met the warm- solid- chest of, you guessed it, Rafe. 

“Shit, sorry, I- why are you standing here?” 

“Why’re you so rude to me?”

 You blinked. Hard.  “I’m rude? To you?” 

Rafe nodded.  “If my work here was so bad, I’d have been fired already,” he added gruffly. 

You couldn't help the scoff that came from your throat. “You roll your eyes at me, you’re always on your phone, you avoid working with me whenever you can, you undermine my authority- you literally gave a kid Legos after I told him that playtime was over!” 

Rafe's eyes were focused on yours, unwavering, his arms pulled tight across his chest. “You were complaining about having a headache. I was sparing you a tantrum.”

You couldn’t believe it. What? Why? What the hell was going on? 

“I’m- I- I’m too tired for this, goodbye.”  

“I took your dinner shift.” He called after you, turning to watch you leave. “So you could sleep. I can give it back?” 

What?

You turn, mulch grinding under your heel. “Why?” 

There was a flicker of something in his eyes before it went away, his face cold as ever. 

“So- so maybe you’d stop bein’ a bitch.” 

Then without letting you work a response out past your jaw dropping, went back into the nurse’s office and shut the door- again, he was the only one with the keys to it. You couldn't go back in and yell at him if you wanted to. 

“Asshole.” 

You muttered other expletives to yourself as you walked away, back to the sounds of children running haphazardly around the soccer field. 

Rafe watched you silently from the window. His phone blew up in his hand, texts from his friends coming in. “YOO SO did she like the shift thing or na???”

eek! my first post!!! honestly i dunno what to think of it, its something i cranked out while waiting for my friend at a cafe. i rlly hope you guys like it!!!

please please please (sabrina carpenter reference?) reblog because it would mean so much to me!!! (maybe i should continue this as a series?)

[pawnshopbleus]

These Are the Days

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader High School AU

One - The Hallway

For the summary, warnings, and more please visit here

Previous Chapter

The human body is extraordinary. It does so many things like waking you up two hours before your alarm is set. It’s five o’clock in the morning and the last thing you want to be is up. This gives you way too much time to overthink your first day of school. 

The outfit you planned out the night before is thrown over your desk chair. It’s something simple and plain. You don’t want to draw too much attention to yourself. Your usual wardrobe would cause you to stick out like a sore thumb. 

You close your eyes and pray that your body lets you go back to sleep but after ten minutes of tossing and turning you knew that it was a lost cause. You reach over and turn on the lamp on your night stand. It takes your eyes a few seconds to adjust to the change in lighting but when they finally do, you sigh. Of course this had to happen to you. Your usual ten hours of sleep is reduced to eight. 

You can hear the rustle of your parents getting ready for work. They are usually out of the house before you wake up and back home long after you’ve gone to sleep. When you were little, you only saw them for a split second in the day when they came to pick you up from school. In middle school they gave you a bike and expected you to learn how to ride it on your own. It’s been just you and your bike ever since. 

You kill time by watching a movie on your laptop. It’s some new romcom that recently came out. Rom Coms are some of your favorite movies to watch because they move something within you. They make up for the lack of love and support in your life. 

Before you know it, two hours have passed by and your alarm goes off. You rub your tired eyes and finally leave the comfort of your bed. Your new room has a bathroom in it. The cold tile floors shock your bare feet but they soon get used to the temperature. 

You observe yourself in the mirror. Your tired eyes and tangled hair are just a reflection of how you feel inside. It’s only the first day but you are already want to give up. You can already feel the monotony tiring you out. 

Maybe you can join a club or two and make some new friends. It seems like everyone back home already forgot about you even though you left a week ago. Your best friend of six years left you on delivered for two days before making up an excuse as to why she didn’t respond fast enough. 

You splash your face with some cold water and try to think about something else. There was no use in thinking about that right now when there’s another pressing issue at hand. 

Lakeview high school is about a twenty minute walk and a six minute bike ride away from your house. The crisp morning air nips at your skin as you zip through your neighborhood. It’s a beautiful morning but you’d rather a car hit you than admit it. 

Jeeps, Teslas, Toyotas, Subarus, BMWs, Ford trucks, and one Honda fill up the parking lot. Those cars confirm your fears; this is a rich kid school. Your parents are very well off so you’ve grown up around rich kids. From your experience, they’re all spoiled little brats who whine when things don’t go their way. Thankfully, you’re parents never really gave a fuck so they didn’t spoil you. That allowed you to appreciate the things you have. 

You dismount your bike and lock it up. 

Lakeview looks like the school from the Breakfast Club. Everything is inside. Growing up in California, you got used to going to outside schools. No lockers, no roofs in the hallways, and wide open spaces greeted you every time you went to school. Everything inside of one big building? Now that, that was different. 

Blue and yellow lockers line the walls of the hallway. Students lean on them as they chat with their friends, no doubt talking about what they got up to over the summer. People fist bump each other as they walked down the hallway and couples suck on eachothers faces with no shame. You ogle at the people walking with the confidence you wished you had right now. It looked like a scene out of some cult classic high school movie. 

You take out the folded up paper that has your schedule on it and glare at it. Homeroom: Room 702. It would have been lovely to know where room 702 is but with multiple staircases going all over the place and no signs in sight, this started to feel less like public school and more like an agoraphobic person's personal hell. 

You take a deep breath and walk up to the nearest person. Their blue shirt catches your eye. It’s one of the colors that doesn’t hurt your eyes. You tap them on the shoulder and when they turn around, they look at you as if you just sprouted two heads.

“Hi, umm, sorry to bother you but do you know where Room 702 is?” you ask, your voice shaking slightly. 

The person points in front of them and then walks away. You gulp and stare in front of you, confused. No one has ever told you that you come off intimidating so that person's demeanor really confuses you. 

“What the fuck?” you mutter under your breath and lean against the wall of lockers. You close your eyes and hold the bridge of your nose. You feel exhausted and you haven’t even done anything really strenuous. 

“Excuse me,” someone says, “you’re leaning against my locker.”

You open your eyes and catapult yourself off the wall. “I’m so sorry,” you apologize. 

The person in front of you looks eerily familiar. Her honey blonde hair is thrown up in a pony tail but you remember it flowing beautifully in the summer breeze. This time you have a chance to make out the color of her eyes. Her blue eyes remind you of the ocean. They remind you of home. 

“Hey, aren’t you new?” she asks, her hand reaching out to shake yours.

You nod and accept the handshake. “Yeah. I just moved here from California.” 

“Cool. I could tell by your accent. It’s very…valley girl! I’m Abby, by the way.” And then she tilts her head and scrunches her eyebrows together, “are you a senior?” 

You nod again and introduce yourself. Your name flows through her mouth like honey. Only then do you realize that the two of you are still shaking hands. You break the handshake and chuckle a bit. 

“Sorry, I’m a little nervous. I don’t know where my homeroom is and some kid in a blue shirt looked at me like I just grew two heads.” 

Abby takes a look at your schedule. “I’m headed towards Room 702 if you want me to walk you over.”

“Please,” you practically beg her. Your body relaxes when she offers to walk you to class. 

The two of you walk side by side down the hallways and up the stairs. A few twists and turns around the school and you’re standing in front of Room 702. The door is open and you can see that there’s only one more seat left, yours.

You turn to Abby and thank her, sincerity laced in your voice. 

“It’s no problem really. If you ever need anything, stop by the softball pitch. That’s where I am most of the time. It’s nice meeting you,” she says before she turns and walks down the hallway. 

You walk into the class and sit down in the only available seat. The two people beside you were engaged in conversation before you sat down so you felt bad about breaking them up. You chew on your lip, ready for them to scoff or curse you out, but it never comes.

“Are you new?” the girl next to you asks. 

“Yeah, I am. Sorry, by the way, for interrupting your conversation.”

“Oh, please. You did nothing of the sort. I got tired of him a while ago. I’m Dina and the guy next to you is Jesse.” She flashes a million dollar smile and all of a sudden, you don’t feel scared anymore. You are going to be okay.

“How did you know I was new?”

“It's a pretty small school. Everyone has pretty much gone to the same school since elementary. It’s pretty rare that we get new kids,” Jesse says. 

“And because you’re wearing shorts in September. No one here wears shorts unless it’s the middle of July,” Dina adds. 

So much for ‘fitting in,’ you think to yourself. 

Dina can sense your discomfort. “Don’t worry. It’s bold! I like bold.”

After the teacher, Miss. Woods, introduced herself as a first year teacher, you felt good knowing that you weren’t the only new person here. She sat down at her desk and said that for the rest of the class they could just talk about anything. 

You learned that Dina was the co-captain on the cheerleading team and Jesse was on the wrestling team. They both did phenomenal in school on top of being able to manage athletics, clubs, and partying. Everyone you’ve met so far has been kind and gratuitous so maybe the universe wasn’t out to get you. 

At lunch, Dina and Jesse invite you to sit with them. They are joined by Dina’s girlfriend, Ellie, also a member of the softball team. 

“So, wait. You left California and came here?” Ellie asked, perplexed at how someone would leave the dream state. 

“I didn’t have much of a choice but I guess Washington is cool. Temperature wise at least.” You mutter the last part under your breath.

“Well, you’ve met the right people because some kids at this school can be total assholes,” Ellie looks up, “speaking of.”

You follow Ellie’s line of sight and see Abby joined by the guy that was driving the truck. His varsity jacket is thrown over his shoulder in some display of faux coolness as he holds Abby’s hand. Something inside of you twitches with distaste. They don’t look right together, but who are you to judge? You’ve only had one conversation with her. It’s not like you know them or their relationship.

Abby and the guy sit down at the now silent table. He looks you up and down and asks, “who’s the new kid?”

You introduce yourself but this time it’s with a lot less enthusiasm than when you introduced yourself to Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Abby. 

“I’m Owen, captain of the football team and the coach's son. Pretty sure you’ve heard of me already.” 

You nod your head, not wanting to embarrass him. The truth is that you haven’t heard of him from anyone. You can tell from this very short interaction that he exudes arrogance and everything that you hate. Not to mention the fact that he smells like dirt and cigarettes. 

Lunch flys by, thankfully and now you’re sitting at a table in your history class. History is by far one of your favorite subjects. It’s not too hard but the material is complex enough to keep your brain satisfied and occupied. 

You sit there, clicking your pen mindlessly as you wait for someone to sit next to you. The warning bell rings and the chair next to you scrapes against the tiled floor. Abby flops down in the seat and sighs. 

“I had to run here from the parking lot. Owen made me go get something from his car,” Abby says out of breath. 

“Why didn’t you tell him to do it himself?” “Enough about him,” Abby dismisses any further questions about her boyfriend and redirects the conversation, “how’s your first day been so far.” 

You can manage a “Pretty go-” before you’re cut off by the sound of the final bell. 

The teacher walks in and closes the door behind him. He’s tall, taller than the average man and he’s wearing a blue and white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The black watch on his wrist beeps and his thick fingers go to turn it off. Something about him makes you feel safe and protected, like you can trust him with anything. 

He walks to the front of the class to introduce himself. “Good afternoon, seniors. Welcome to your last first day of public school. My name is Mr. Miller and I’ll be your history teacher for the next year.” 

He takes out a stack of papers from his black leather messenger bag and begins to pass them out. “This is the syllabus. Look over it with your parents and make sure to get their signature. If you turn it back in to me by Friday you can receive extra credit.” 

You’ve become a master at forging your parents signature so you can have it back to him by the end of the day if he isn’t a narc. 

Before you know it, your first day at Lakeview is over and you're back on your bike riding down the streets of your neighborhood. It’s more lively today than it was when you got here. There are dogs barking, joggers running past you, cars honking at you to get out of the way, and children playing in their front yards. 

You come to a halt when you realize that there’s been a car following you ever since you left school. The window rolls down and you are met with the smell of dirt and cigarettes. “Need a ride?” Owen lifts his eyebrow.

“No thanks. I live right here.” You curse yourself for basically doxing yourself to someone you definitely don’t want knowing where you live.

“Oh, nice house. I live down the street so if you ever need anything don’t be afraid to ask. Any friend of Abby’s is a friend of mine.” He winks and then drives off. 

You scrunch up your face in disgust and drop your bike off in the driveway. No one’s going to steal your bike because everyone around here has enough money to buy ten. 

You're greeted by the sound of silence when you enter your house. You hang your backpack and keys up by the door and flop down on the couch. Your parents haven’t gone grocery shopping yet so you order a large pizza for yourself and watch TV until you fall asleep on the couch.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @soupycloud

If you'd like to join the tag list, send me a PM me and you'll be added.

Thank you all for reading. 🌻

[cherrryybeee]

but i'm a cheerleader!

(link at the bottom)

Natalie Scatorccio x Reader bot, i was rewatching but i'm a cheerleader and got inspired 😌 also i put Laura Lee as Hillary even though Shauna technically plays her just because I thought it fit more. (sidenote, instead of half guys half girls it's an all girl camp because i couldn't think of any guys 😭) i think there will be another bot because i have lots of ideas

It all started with an average day, {{user}} was attending school and cheer practice, talking with her friends, and boyfriend. That was until you got home and a bunch of people were gathered in your living room, your mom, dad, boyfriend, three of your friends, and a person you didn’t recognize. The stranger was wearing a shirt that said, “straight is great”.

“Surprise!”

Your mother said as you walked in and looked around confused. 

“What happened? Is somebody dead?” You asked, your mother held out a tray of donuts to you. “There you’re favorite” You didn’t take one, you continued to look around the room. Around the people you loved desperately wanting to know what was happening. 

“Hi {{user}}!”

The unknown man finally spoke up.

“My name is Mike, your parents and friends want to have a conversation with you” He seemed friendly, but the fake kind of friendly. 

And that’s when it all began, your dad told you that he loved you, which was weird? Then he started blabbing about you being “influenced”, until your mom cut him off. “Honey, we think you’re a lesbian!” She didn’t finish what she was trying to say though. You looked around just to see all your friends nodding along, agreeing. You knew you weren’t a lesbian. I mean you literally had a boyfriend! The man, Mike, started telling you how he was a “ex-gay” and telling you about a conversion camp. Which you didn’t need because you *weren’t* gay. “What tendencies? Why do you guys think i’m a-?”

You begin to ask before your mother stands up, holding up a bag with tofu in it.

“You’ve been trying to get us to eat this, *tofu*” Then people started pointing out other things. How you had a picture of a girl in your locker but not a guy. And posters of woman in your room. Your boyfriend explained how you didn’t even like to kiss him and everyone agreed. So you got sent off. 

When you arrived at “true directions” you got greeted by the woman who ran the place, “Mary J. Brown”. She then passed you off to a girl named Laura Lee to show you around, Laura Lee had blonde hair cut in a short bob and bright blue eyes. She told you the basics,wake up at 7, breakfast at 8, group therapy until lunch, apparently we had free time in the afternoon, but then we moved inside for “reorienting exercises” whatever that was? And family therapy was on the weekends. 

She then led you into a very pink room with four beds. There was a girl on one of the beds with a bleach blonde shaggy mullet, she was pale with messy eyeliner done, the pink uniforms we had to wear was a large contrast from her. She was sitting there, cigarette in hand, when you walked in with Laura Lee, the girl on the bed gave you a weird look before looking back at her cigarette.

“Theres no inappropriate behavior allowed.” You heard Laura Lee say as she looked at you up and down. 

“Inappropriate? Like swearing?” You asked clueless. 

“No inappropriate like fucking.”

You heard the girl on the bed say in a tone that basically called you stupid. 

“Oh”

You awkwardly laugh as you look at her.

“You get caught in the throws of sodomy, and au revior.” 

The blonde girl continues, putting the cigarette in between her lips. You stare at her for a moment before following Laura Lee out of the room, her eyes follow you as you leave. 

“Never mind Natalie, she’s a spoiled brat” Laura Lee says once the door is shut. “I read her chart” She lets out a nervous laugh at that, walking towards a large chart on the fence. It was a five step chart on how to “pass” homosexuality. 

“Step one was easy, admitting you’re a homosexual” 

She points to the box where everyone had a check mark in, well everyone but you. She explained how they all passed yesterday, she then took a step closer to you and boldly said.

"I'm a homosexual"

She sounded almost proud saying it.

You then find yourself sitting in a room, surrounded by the other people at the camp. Others went around introducing themselves to you.

First was a girl that had honey blonde wavy hair that sat at her shoulders and hazel eyes, she had on a gold heart necklace that she was fiddling with. "Hi {{user}}, I'm Jackie, and I'm a soccer player. And I'm a homosexual."

Then there was a girl who had dark brown hair that landed a little above her shoulders with deep dark brown eyes. She was a little shorter then Jackie. "I'm Shauna, I like pain, and I'm a homosexual."

After Shauna a girl with long dark brown wavy hair, dark brown eyes and olive skin went. "I'm Lottie, I'm a medicated schizophrenic, and I'm a ho... home.. sexual." She finally said after hesitating.

Then it was Natalie. "We met." staring at you with an almost teasing smile. Mary glared at her which made Natalie roll her eyes. "I'm Natalie but people call me Nat, and I like girls a lot." She grins at you. "And uh, I'm a homosexual." She says looking at Mary almost mocking her.

A red head girl with brown eyes eagerly went next. "Van, actor, dancer, homosexual."

Then a mixed girl with curly brown hair and brown eyes spoke up. "Tai, homosexual, varsity soccer player."

*lots of soccer* you thought to yourself. Mary then wanted you to tell them when you found out you were a lesbian. "I'm not.." you said shaking your head. "Everyone just thinks I am" you explain smiling. "I shouldn't even be here". No one believed you, why did no one believe you? Mary wanted you to explain why people thought you were.

"I have pictures of woman around" you explain before Jackie interrupts you.

"You think that's normal?" She asks, you shrug.

"Sure, I never really thought about it." your eyebrows furrow as you look down at your hands.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" Mary asked you.

"Yes" you nod and smile proudly, like you're proving something, "We've been together for two years, going steady. I really love him.. He's smart and popular-"

"He's got the biggest dick I've never seen" Natalie interrupts you.

"Well um, have you ever.. had sex with him?" Laura Lee asked you.

"I'm a christian." *what were these people not getting?* you thought to yourself.

"It's really easy to be a prude when you're not attracted to him. isn't it?" Laura Lee continued.

"He's very handsome." You try to defend yourself.

Then Shauna speaks up, "But does he make you hot? I mean do you think of him at night when you.."

"I'm not perverted." you interrupt Shauna before she could finish. "I get good grades, I go to church, I'm a cheerleader!" Natalie rolls her eyes at you when she hears that. "I'm not like all of you, everyone reads cosmo, everyone looks at other girls all the time."

"But you only assume that they're think what you're thinking when they look" Tai buts in. "But they're not"

as realization hit you Natalie gives you a smirk.

"I'm a homosexual..." you say very quiet.

"I'm a homosexual" you say louder. Mary congratulates you for something, admitting it maybe. you couldn't believe everyone was right.

dinner rolled around and as you were walking to the table where everyone was sitting you past Natalie who was sitting alone.

"Congratulations on your first step pom poms" She said while taking a bite of what was for dinner...

[heartfullofleeches]

I think Sunshine prince will be trust fund kid with brag a docious ton of Lamborghini in moderen au

Works for me

Modern Au Sunshine/"Innocent" Prince/Stoic Bodyguard Reader

The "Prince" is a spoiled brat with living parents that have the entire city under their thumb. He's given the title for his looks and charms; the sweetest little devil you could probably met - until you get on his bad side. When he's in one of his moods, generations will be ruined if anyone dares try to talk to him, even if it's to cheer him up. The week he found out his parents were getting him a guard - nobody was safe. Everyone's favorite teacher lost their job of thirty years for giving him a quick pep talk while he was seething. This all came after he had an altercation with another student for play flirting with their partner though he was the clear victor. His parents thought the world was too dangerous for their sweet baby. They thought he was a child - weak. He'd show them. He'd ruin his guards life and make them regret stepping one foot his house and-

"Lunar, meet Y/n. They will be attending the same college as you, but outside their studies they will be with you at all times."

And-

"A pleasure, Sir."

And....oh. He's never been called that before. Makes him feel like he's aged a century - but he likes the respect. You aren't as ugly as he thought you'd be either.

" I hear you have a reputation of being called a prince at your college. Would you prefer if I called you "Your Majesty" instead?"

There's no hint of mockery in your tone. You're serious.... Is it to late to take back what he said about ruining your life?

Princey here is all over his hired protection. He really lives up the "harmless babe, silly clumsy boy who can do no wrong." part of his act when you're around. He prefers bottled soda over canned because he can get you to crack them open for him and compliment your strength. He kicks open the doors of your class mid-lecture and whines about being hungry a whole two hours before break. You're quick to scold him for the latter, and your intervention plus his self dumbifcation leads to let mishaps among your peers - and eyes on you. Nobody is smart enough to make a move on you in his line of sight, but you pretty much become the school eye candy when he's off on his own.

The Prince moves out of his parent's four story mansion and into your dorm for a taste of that domestic bliss. Your living space gets upgraded to a two bedroom apartment because even his parents are wise enough to know putting you in one room would lead to trouble - but he weasels his way into your bed most nights regardless. He pushes his innocent act a little too far when he tries to get in the shower or bath with you, but rubbing his face on the towel you used is fine enough for now. Unbridled, unfiltered rage is casted at whoever may need your aid. You are his knight guard, and his alone.

-

[Bodyguard Guard Reader carries an unconscious peer out of the pool after they nearly drowned, their lips pale blue.]

"Oh my God. I don't think they're breathing -"

Bodyguard Reader: Don't worry - I know CPR

Prince Yan, pulling up with a vacuum: I got you covered!

-

Prince Yan: You pathetic, worthless, no good, low life, homewrecking, stupid, repulsive whor-

[Bodyguard Reader walks in]

Prince Yan: Y/n! I've been looking for you everywhere! Can you peel this apple for me with your teeth?

-

[Some thugs Prince paid off walking in limping and covered in bruises]

"Dude what the hell!? You said this was a joke

Prince Yan: The joke was it's funny you think Y/n would allow anyone to put hands on me. I would say you should see what they can do with a watermelon or pumpkin and their thighs - but if you did I'd have to skin you all alive

[bruciemilf]

A crack treated seriously concept that I have just swimming in my mind;

Runaway sugar baby Bruce Wayne AU.

Here's the thing; Bruce and Harvey are married. Bruce may not realize they are! but they are.

Oblivious fucker really went,

" yes, I will have children with my best friend, raise them together happily, occasionally have sex, and wear this cool ring he gave me. Platonically, of course."

I think it all started when Tim came home from school, wearing a bit of a guilty expression, asking with a pinch embarrassment if Bruce could pretend to be a doctor for career day.

Bruce blinks, " I am a doctor, darling." Graduated with flying colors, mind you!

"Well, yeah, but...You know, not anymore. "

True. Ever since he adopted Jason and Tim, he just found it harder and harder to leave home. They were just too precious and he didn't want to miss a moment!

"I just don't understand why he'd lie about it."

"I can," Harvey looks so handsome, arranging his tie. He does a mess of it, but he doesn't look less tantalising,

" Little brats would be...Yknow, mean. They get finicky when they see a weak spot."

He knows it's Harvey because there's no accent melting like whisky on his mouth. " Weak spot?"

" doll, cmon, --"

" I do work, Harvey. Just because it's not defending criminals doesn't mean it's less vital."

" I knowthat. But you're also a rich guy who, let's face it, wouldn't need to work a day In his life. And that's fine by me. "

because Harvey HATED seeing his mom break her back to support their family when his father was drowning face down in debts.

He wouldn't put anyone through that, let alone his pretty little husband. But Bruce doesn't take this well.

" well! I'll show you! I'm more than capable of making it on my own, I'll prove it!"

Now. Bruce doesn't think too much. He's not an expert in it. Man can stitch up a 5 inch incision with floss, but his own well being? Leave it to Alfred.

But he'll make them proud. So next time, they don't have to lie.

He just packs up way too many luggages, packs Damian up too, and leaves while Harvey's at oh his back breaking, gruelling office job.

It's only when he's on a bus that he realizes he forgot the rest, but that'd be cruel! Their boys loved their father.

Dick, who's in his I Hate Dad phase, is extremely hysterical while they leave to find Bruce. Only stopping occasionally to fix his eyeliner, then start over again.

Jason, Harvey's second oldest, drives beside them on his motorbike.

He guesses its an extra middle finger to him to not wear a helmet. His beloved little hellion, raised on the devil's edge.

"Listen to me; If I find him, I'm moving back home. If I don't, I'll put you in the ground."

" I'll let you."

Now; Bruce does find a place. It's a little town with big characters.

Harley has a diner that she's more than happy to welcome him in, even if Bruce, Spoiled Spouse of the Year, can't quite pick up.

Anything for old roomies.

But there is someone in there who catches Bruce's attention. Towns mechanic.

Clark, his name tag says, who played with Damian behind Bruce's back while he talked to Harley.

He smells of salty motor oil; Fresh sweat, smoked apple pie. His eyes are dreamy blue, rendered with sharp cleverness. And Clark likes him.

Clark recommends him a good motel, brings Damian some toys to play with, even brings his own babies so they can have a playdate. " They're not mine. The toys! These two are. I have a receipt from the hospital."

"...A birth certificate?"

He's delightfully awkward.

When Harvey comes to pick him up, when Bruce jumps in his arms, claws at a pristine shirt stained with his brand new blisters and cracks and worked hands, he's not awkward.

He's disappointed; Like Bruce strangled the joy from his soul.

"You're...Married?"

When Bruce and Harvey respond, in perfect, consice sync, " Oh no, darling,--" " Yes he is, four eyes--" they're ALL confused.

"Oh, dear..."

[ichorai]

the wolf and the beast ; toji fushiguro.

part of the A SONG OF CURSES AND CROWNS collection!

pairing ; assassin!toji fushiguro x stark!f!reader

synopsis ; nobody told him that his target had a direwolf.

words ; 3.3k

themes ; fantasy, asoiaf au, assassin au, prisoner au, enemies-to-???

warnings / includes ; mentions of murder, descriptions of injury/blood, classism, foul language, toji hates your wolf, toji stealing from a whorehouse LMAO

main masterlist.

Lannisters paid good money for their dirty work to be done by someone other than them. Toji was more than happy to comply once he heard the price for your head was enough to last him a few years, maybe even more if he stopped betting on jousting events. He asked no questions, and didn’t bother dwelling on the reason why they wanted you dead. Though, if he had to guess, it might have been because you were the most eligible noble lady to be married off to the king (a white-haired cunt, Toji liked to call him). Being Queen Regent of the Seven Kingdoms was clearly a position the Lannisters were hungry to get their claws on. 

Toji didn’t really care. He was just happy to get the gold.

It was supposed to be a simple, easy task. After all, you lived in a cushy castle, draped in expensive furs and coats, eating the softest of breads and drinking the sweetest of nectars. The spoiled brats were always the easiest to take out. 

Getting into Winterfell went smoother than he’d expected. A few miles down the road leading to the castle, he’d killed two men driving a horse-led cart full of wine barrels—meant to be delivered right to Winterfell. 

And so he got through the South gate with ease. The guards interrogated about the wine, and Toji prattled on about the aging process of the alcohol, the special concoction of grapes and infused spices, the sweetness of the reds, the tartness of the gold wines, and whatnot. None of it was really true, of course. Toji just spoke out of his ass, pulled out product papers he found in the satchels of the men he killed, and smiled charmingly when the guard waved his hand to let him pass.

A gangly, young stableboy with red hair and blue eyes escorted him to cellars, where the wine barrels would be stored. And, after asking the little boy, Toji realized, to his utter delight, the Great Keep was just above him. 

Up the cobblestone staircase he went, far louder than a mouse, but Toji moved quick enough for it not to matter. 

There was one problem, however. He hadn’t taken into account the possibility of you not being in your chambers. Which, you clearly weren’t. The entire Keep was silent and vacant, save for a few handmaidens he spotted collecting soiled laundry. He made sure to keep out of their sight.

And so, Toji settled for waiting in the largest chamber—which he assumed was yours, being the Warden of the North and all. He glanced around, inspecting all the trinkets laid about on your desk: silver jewelry, shoddy wooden carvings of wolves, and, interestingly, various scabbarded daggers. He pocketed what looked to be of some value. He inspected some more, lazed around on your large bed, and rifled through the many furs and fine garments in your closet. Many of the dresses he held up to his chest spanned only half the width of his broad shoulders, much to his amusement.

Hours later, once footsteps echoed down the hall, Toji sprang up from the polished wooden chair (he totally hadn’t fallen asleep) and hid behind the door. 

You strode in, covered in dirt, snow, and dried blood. There were leaves clinging to your hair. It seemed that you’d just gotten back from a hunting party. You had yet to spot the tall, burly man in your chambers, your back still to him as you began to shirk off your boots.

That was when Toji moved. 

Curved blades in hand, Toji surged forward and aimed to stab you right through your heart—

You turned around just in time to see your direwolf lunge at the figure, her sharp teeth sinking into Toji’s shoulder. The man let out a startled cry of pain, the weight of the wolf sending him careening down to the ground, his head cracking against one of the posts of your bed. Stars danced about his vision as pain shot down from nearly every part of his body.

Its teeth tore through the musculature of his bicep and collar, its claws tearing through his tunic and the skin of his abdomen with each swipe. Toji landed a poorly aimed strike to the direwolf’s midriff, but she merely grew more aggressive in her ministrations. 

Nobody had told him you had a fucking direwolf.

If he’d known, he would’ve reconsidered taking the job. He still would have agreed, in the end, the gold was too much to turn down, but it would’ve been good information to know beforehand. 

Curse the Lannisters. Curse their gold. Curse you and your stupid pet—

“Down, Reika,” you ordered, which had the accursed beast backing away from him with snarling, bared teeth, dripping with what he assumed was his blood. “Good girl.”

Toji made a strangled noise of pain as he attempted to sit up.

“It’s been a long day,” you stiffly told him, eyes narrowed as you knelt down and pressed one of the daggers from your desk—now unsheathed—right over his jugular. The cold metal kissed his skin and he immediately stopped moving. He could see his weapon scattered an arm’s length behind you. There was no way he could possibly reach it without you slitting his throat first. “Hunting party gone wrong. I wanted nothing more than to come home and take a long, hot bath. And what do I have to deal with? A sad attempt at an assassination, and my carpets covered in your blood.”

Toji scowled, but said nothing in return. 

“Guards,” you said, strangely calm for someone who had nearly (if not for your wretched, overgrown dog) been assassinated. “Take him to the dungeons.”

As Toji was dragged away, leaving a dripping trail of blood in his wake, he caught a glimpse of you kneeling by your wolf, your hand shaking with adrenalized fear you hadn’t dared show in front of him. He was glad he was able to see it—just a glimpse of weakness was more than enough ammunition for him.

The dungeons were cold and dreary. Much like the rest of the North, Toji bitterly thought. It was hard to see as well, for the sparse few torches hanging on the walls only barely lit the walkway. 

He could hear everything, though. Dripping of water in the distance. A raven cawing outside. The torch’s flame whispering greed to the air. Footsteps growing louder—

Toji sat up against the wall when a figure stepped in front of the wrought metal bars, dark with decades of use and age. 

“Food,” came your voice. “I don’t usually do this, you know.”

The man, your prisoner, lazily tilted his head up from his position on the ground to look at you, his gaze dropping down to your hands where one carried a bowl of braised meat and the other held a chalice of wine. The chalice alone was probably worth more than anything he’d ever owned in his life.

“Bring food to a man? I can tell,” Toji dryly responded.

Your expression remained unchanged. “Bring food to a prisoner.”

It was then that Toji noticed a pair of glowing eyes by your legs, the beast’s tale curling over the back of your knees. The maester might have bound him up nice and clean (though not without pursed lips of obvious disapproval), but his wounded shoulder still throbbed with terrible pains. 

“You brought your dog,” he observed.

“Wolf,” you corrected. “Her name is Reika.”

“Wretched thing,” Toji half-heartedly snarled.

The beast snarled back at him. Its eyes, amber and sharp, only grew brighter with agitation.

You decided to ignore his comment. “Do you want to tell me what you were doing in my chambers?”

There was clear disdain in your features, from what little Toji could see of it anyway, but he could also pick up on the evident curiosity there—it wasn’t every day you had to deal with a Southern commoner.

“Won’t make much of a difference now, would it?” he drawled, kicking his feet out so he could rest his elbows over propped-up knees.

“Your choice of words could very likely spark up a war between houses,” you said. It was said as a jest, though you knew it was a large possibility. 

“Would be no fun to start a war if I’m not there to partake,” came his reply. His stomach cinched as he inhaled sharply, the warm smell of peppered venison wafting through his cell. “You came here to give me food and yet you’re still clutching onto it like a babe with its mother’s teat.”

“You have a foul mouth,” you said, now slightly amused. Who knew the Warden of the North had a sense of humor? “Tell me who sent you. Then comes the food.”

Toji glowered some more. For a minute, he considered what you’d do if he simply refused to say anything. But his tummy grumbled, and his resolve dissipated into mist.

“The Lannisters paid me a pretty sum to have you dead,” he said. 

To his interest, you didn’t seem a single bit surprised. “Ah. Yes, I suspected so. Jenna Lannister was particularly prickly to me last we met.”

“Are you going to give me the food or what?” Toji barked, words heavy with irritation. He really couldn't care less about your snooty endeavors.

“I don’t want the throne,” you went on, much to his chagrin. Though, you did lower yourself to his same position and slipped your wrists through the bars to place down the bowl and chalice. “Not the Iron one, at least. The burden is heavy… and the North is enough for me. Marrying the king means I’d have to sire heirs, and I have no interest in doing so. Winterfell is not short of Starks—my brother and his lady wife have had enough little children for our name to carry on the family legacy for centuries.”

Toji could have easily grabbed at your wrists and slammed your head bloody into the bars. Your stinking mutt made him pause, however, and you pulled away before he could make a move. 

Besides, he was hungry.

Toji tore at the meat like a rabid animal. It fell apart in a deliciously tender manner. Hot soup dribbled down his palms, which he ravenously licked away. You didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, you took a seat opposite his cell and watched him with clear fascination.

“How’d you get that scar?”

Toji chewed at a particularly large chunk of meat and swallowed it with little effort. “Not everyone grows up in a lavish castle eating pastries and meats and sucking squire cock.”

It took you a moment to respond, but when you did, your words were calm and flat. “I’ve brought you meat. If it is pastries and squire cock you require, you need only ask. Give you a taste of a lordly life.”

Now you really must have been japing. Mocking him, even. Toji didn’t find you all that funny. 

“Why are you here?” he gruffed around another mouthful after taking a long swig of wine. “Are friends hard to come by in the North? Or is it just you?”

That seemed to strike a nerve. You sucked at your teeth. 

“I saw you,” he pressed. “As your guards dragged me away. I saw you looking scared. Cowering by your wolf because I nearly got you. If that beast hadn’t been there, you would have been long dead. It would suit you.” Toji’s eyes gave you an intrusive onceover, despite all the layers you were wearing. “You’d make a lovely corpse.”

“Only a fool fights back fear,” you shot back, though it was quite obvious that your confidence had taken a blow. “Fear keeps us alive.”

Toji made a humming noise into the bowl that he picked up to slurp at the last remaining drops of soup. 

“More,” he demanded once he pulled his face away, tongue laving over his lips to catch what had smeared over his mouth. The portion you had given him was ridiculously small.

Perhaps that was a calculated choice. Toji only realized that when you spared him a cold little smile. 

“Hey!” he growled out when you pushed yourself back onto your feet. “I’m fucking starving here!”

Silent as a wraith, you strode out of the dungeons with Reika padding along beside you.

Much time passed. Each night (Toji assumed it was night, he could hardly tell since there were no windows anyway), you would come down with a bit of food and drink. You would sit and talk with him about the most mundane of things, the most asinine of topics, and the most boring of subjects. Toji yawned and yawned so you would take the hint, but you ignored him each time.

He was beginning to think you truly didn’t have any friends up there. Other than your stinky mutt, of course.

There was even one time where you had opened the grating. From what he heard, Starks were quite religious folk—slobbering all over their bloody trees and old gods. He’d told you he wanted to see the Godswood as he himself was devout (he, of course, was nowhere near devout and hadn't prayed a single day in his life), and you, with softened eyes, reluctantly agreed on the condition that he remained shackled and quiet. 

He killed a guard that night trying to escape. You struck him with a terribly strong blow to the back of his head, and your damned wolf sunk its teeth into his shin. The maester was none too happy to see him again. No milk of the poppy was administered, so he suffered through the pain. It was all worth it, though. He was outside of the dungeons for a grand total of two seconds, and the air had never tasted so clear and so sweet. 

You were angry at him for quite a while but still found it in you to visit nearly every day, which Toji found highly amusing. Then you grew soft on him again (which took many moons), and Toji oft wondered if you usually pardoned prisoners this quickly. 

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Toji asked on the seventh moon of him being your prisoner. Of course, he had asked this question multiple times before, but your answer seemed to always vary.

You may be of value. You do not deserve death. The gods smile at mercy. Reika likes you. 

Those were all reasons you’d given him before. Though Toji had a very hard time believing the last one.

You regarded him with knitted brows. “If I’m being honest… I’ve grown quite fond of you.”

Toji drew his head back in surprise. Then, an arrogant, flirtatious smile flitted over his scarred mouth. It was the same smile he used to use on whores in the Street of Silk so they would take him to their seducing chambers—he could never understand how the drawers and shelves of whorehouses seemed to always have an abundance of loose coppers and silvers. 

“But—” You began to continue but Toji quickly cut you off.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he said, lifting a hand up. You frowned. “You’ve fallen in love with me. And you’re thinking that if the circumstances were different, we’d be pawing at each other’s bodies like there was no tomorrow. And you worry that your people wouldn’t approve. You needn’t worry about such matters—I’m sure Northern folk would regard me as your equal if you let me out of the cell and force me into marriage. That would make me their liege lord, wouldn’t it?”

An indignant look settled over your features, your skin flushed as if you’d downed a heady drink.

“Are you mad? Of course I’m not in love with you, you imbecile,” you retorted, crossing your arms. “Besides—I’m not looking to marry anyone. And if I was, you’d be the very last on my list, thank you very much.”

Toji didn’t even have the gall to look embarrassed at his bold assumption.

“I had to try, didn’t I?” He gave you that lazy smirk once more. “Being Lord of Winterfell sounds like a cushy life. Cushier than this one, at least.”

“Well…” You toyed with a frayed thread on your robes. “I can offer you a life cushier than prison.”

Toji snorted. “I’m not going to be a glorified stableboy or a squire. I’d much rather sit here and have you bring me food than the other way around.”

“I considered sending you to the Night’s Watch,” you admitted with a ponderous look. “There are plenty of men like you there—I’m sure they would welcome another good fighter.” Toji didn’t have time to snark about how you’d complimented him before you were already speaking again. “But then I realized that you might still be of use to me.”

“I’m a good bed warmer,” offered Toji. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laid on a plush bed. Not since yours, at least. He thought about your bed often. Usually without you in it. The times he did imagine you there, your wolf always came in and ruined his entire lovely daydream.

You spared him an unamused look. “I want you to be my spy. Ears and eyes for me down South. Particularly in the West, where the lands crawl with Lannister cock-sucking houses. I need to know what they plan so I can be five steps ahead.”

A moment of silence passed by. Toji’s upper lip curled into a sneer.

“No,” he began to protest. “Why in the seven hells would I—”

“I’ll pay you with enough gold to sink you to the bottom of the ocean. And once you have tired of gold, I’ll fill you with as much venison stew as your heart desires. And once you get sick of that, I will find you a Northern castle and grant you the title of a lord for your services. You’ll live the rest of your days comfortably. Granted you do as I tell you, of course.”

That made Toji pause and consider your offer.

“Why me?” he finally asked. He drew nearer to the bars, nearer to you. 

“You’re a Southerner, aren’t you? You know the lands better than any of my loyal Northmen. You’d… fit in.”

Toji wanted to laugh. He wasn’t ever very good at fitting in.

“How do you know I wouldn’t just lie to you and ally myself with the Lannisters?”

“Because,” you huffed, nose wrinkling. “You think they’re all cunts. You’ve said it yourself plenty of times. And—I’m not foolish enough to have you as my sole plant. If you lie, I’ll know. And I’ll have Reika hunt you down… and she won’t be held back this time.”

She was holding back the previous times? Toji distantly thought with a scowl. 

“What do you say?”

“It’s a far journey down South. You’ll miss me.” Toji’s cheek pressed up against the uneven metal bars. They were so cold it felt as if they were burning right through his flesh. 

“I’ll find another prisoner to entertain,” you replied, eyes glimmering. Another jape. You didn’t deny his words, however.

A moment of considerable silence passed. Toji bowed his head ever so slightly. The first time he’d ever done so to you.

“I’m in, Wolf.” It didn’t pass his notice how your eyes lit up, how your back stood a little straighter, how your fingers curled excitedly into the fabric of your riding cloak. You didn’t even seem to mind the nickname he’d given you. “When do I start?”

[rarepairdumpster]

Titanic AU Part 1

Pairing: Viktor/Silco (Arcane) Rating: M C/W: Infidelity (Jayce/Viktor), Suicide Attempt, we don't actually hate Jayce, it's just easy to use him as a plot device

A/N: Silco is de-aged in this AU to pre-kiddos era. Still has his eye injury though. Also we kinda jump around scenes when we do these type of AUs but will keep the general beats and plot of the movie

Titanic AU, where Silco is the dirt poor artist and Viktor is the trophy fiancé of Jayce.

Silco being savagely enamored with him from the start, itching to tear his fine clothes off, to smear charcoal fingerprints over his porcelain skin.

Ohhhhh, the hunger Silco feels when their eyes meet when Viktor looks out over the deck, before the fiancé comes and steals his attention, making the beautiful creature stiffen up.

Silco coming closer and closer while Viktor is staring down at the propellers, considering jump, because he feels so dead inside and he doesn't want this feeling to be his entire life.

Thinking about Silco speaking in that low, rich gravel, asking if Viktor knows what it's like to drown.

Viktor staring at the water, listening to Silco talk about how water welcomes you, cradles, etc.

And then Viktor whips his attention over his shoulder when Silco says the water down there isn't like that.

Viktor whispering "What does it feel like then?"

His voice is barely audible over the churning water below. 

Silco points to his face and then tugs the hem of his shirt upwards and points to a long, curving scar.

"Like these. Like knifes tearing through your skin, heedless of your screams. Over and over."

Viktor and Silco seeing each other before dinner though.

Viktor feeling his breath catch in his throat because Silco looks so different in the tuxedo, compared to the threadbare rags he'd been in earlier.

With his hair slicked back and his face clean. Eyes sparkling with mirth, even if whoever lent him the suit made Silco wear an eyepatch.

Sevika definitely. She came into a bunch of money suddenly so she gets it.  She lends him the suit and gives Silco tips during the dinner.

"Walk like you belong there. Like you fucking bought the whole ship."

Silco carrying Viktor around the third class dance floor, making sure his leg isn't strained.

Silco is much more eloquent than Jack during his confession speech.

Viktor is smart and quick enough to be like "no you just said a lot of fancy words for you think I'm a spoiled brat" Silco's burning rage when he sees the red mark from Jayce backhanding Viktor in the face

Silco demanding "Did he do this?" 

And Viktor looking away, whispering, "You should've left me alone."

Viktor coming out in a sheer lavender and blue kimono for Silco to draw him. Silco's eyes just pure heat when he see's Viktor's body for the first time.

Silco is, of course, a consummate professional. He doesn't pounce on Viktor, no matter how much he wants to.

Viktor can still feel Silco's gaze blanket him as he draws.

His face warms as his dick gets hard under Silco's sweeping gaze.

Silco doesn't comment, but lips pull into a smirk.

Rose and Jack may not have done it after that but Viktor and Silco sure do~

Silco takes deep, sadistic pleasure in staining Jayce's bed with their fluids.

Silco wipes himself clean on some of Jayce's shirts. 

Viktor scolds him, but it carries little weight because he starts laughing.

Silco murmuring a soft "He doesn't deserve you" as he cradles Viktor's laughing face.

"And you do?" Viktor says, half joking.

"Only as long as I can keep you smiling."

Viktor kisses him and let's Silco help him back to his feet. They need to get dressed and get out of there before Jayce comes back

And they still bang again in the car.

With Viktor on Silco's lap, almost curving into him.

It's almost better than the first time, now that Viktor has decided to run away with Silco.

Silco's lips are hot on his throat. His hands are possessive, but gentle. And Silco breathes praise into the building heat of the car.

Oh, man, Marcus was absolutely the cop that cuffed Silco in that room.

And Marcus is so fucking smug as he says "You know, I do believe this ship may sink" before walking out.

Silco's shock when Viktor came looking for him.

Especially since he knows how hard it must be for him to move down there.

Viktor's anxiety when he has to try to keep his balance on a wet floor AND try to cut Silco free with an axe.

Viktor letting out a nervous little laugh as he gets ready to swing. "If I hack your hand off.....I'm sorry." 

"If it means we get out of here, I'll forgive you."

Viktor somehow ends up hitting it and Silco immediately bridal carries him the rest of the way out of the water.

Viktor almost falls from the overbalance of swinging the axe, but manages to keep his feet, barely.

When he's in Silco's arms, Viktor kisses his face over and over, hand in his hair.

Viktor is trying to apologize and Silco is like "I love you but can we get to a boat first."

Viktor nods and falls silent, let's Silco focus.

Silco setting Viktor back down when they come upon all the steerage people being kept locked below decks.

Silco and Sevika ramming the gates down together.

Viktor being sickened by how much the steerage folks are hated.

Jayce would be exactly the kind of dumbass to still go after Viktor after he has made it CLEAR he does not want Jayce.

And Viktor would still believe that Jayce had a shred of kindness that he would take Silco with him.

'Cause being angry that Viktor had an affair is one thing, letting a man die cruelly is something else.

"This is where we first met," Viktor says as they're sinking.

"But not where I first saw you," Silco'd answer in a rush, one hand gripping the railing tight and his other arm locked tight around Viktor, not willing to let him fall.

Viktor whispering a scared "I can't swim."

Viktor being the one to anxiously spout physics about the water and the boat but Silco being able to stay calm and put it together to make a plan.

Silco has a burst of panic when Viktor's hand is ripped from his, and he thinks Viktor is going to drown because he was too stupid and foolish to stay on the lifeboat.

Because Viktor came back for him.

Silco and Viktor clutching each other BOTH on the door, teeth chattering, Viktor trying to keep Silco wrapped up in the big coat with him.

"You were right," Viktor says through his shivering. "This water sucks." 

And Silco let's out a disbelieving laugh.

Silco's the one that keeps blowing the whistle.

Getting back into that icy water to make sure bae stays alive.

Viktor passes out before the boat arrives but Silco makes sure he gets on it. In the hospital, Viktor is the first to wake up also and insists his bed be by Silco's so he's there when he wakes up.

Silco and Viktor hiding from Jayce on the Carpathia.

Viktor finding the expensive gemstone in his pocket like "at least we have money for our new life together." And Silco knows exactly the shop to hock it.

Part 2

Arch + Woods

[lillymakesart]

So I have this idea for Spoiled Brat Mizu though it will unravel her perfect life.... But role assignments first. Master Eiji is her tutor, Ringo is the son of their head cook and is one of her besties, Taigen is....her bodyguard for a lack of a better term, Akemi is her friend and playmate when they were kids, also a spoiled little lady. Their dads are friends. Mizu is still excellent with the sword, although its mostly because she likes it and not for anything else. The only way Taigen got to stay as her bodyguard was because of all the samurai in all the schools, he was the one who lasted the longest when she challenged them. Story idea: An assasination attempt on her father (who is a daimyo) and while he doesn't die, he is gravely injured. Mizu goes on a path of revenge for her Dad and everyone tags along for the adventure. Ringo and Akemi because they think its fun. Taigen because he had to. She has none of the self-hatred. Just anger that someone tried to kill her father.

I came upon this thought while putting my daughter to sleep. LMAO.

im in love with this arc this plot this world building im BEGGING someone to please write the fic PLEEAASSSEEE

[doumadono]

Warnings: violence, viking!Dabi, viking!Shoto, earl!Endeavor, viking!Natsuo, fem!reader, smut (short & not graphic), viking themes, Shoto is a spoiled brat

Summary: in a Viking world of power, secrets and warriors, a young woman captured during a raid finds herself entangled in the life of Dabi, the enigmatic eldest son of the ruthless earl. As secrets, scars, and desires collide, their unconventional connection unfolds in a tale of love, danger, and destiny

Word count: circa 5.9k

A/N: for a few years, I've held a fascination with Viking themes and their historical era. Recently, I had the idea to place Dabi in such a setting and see where the story would take me. I sat down to write and found myself falling in love with this new narrative instantly. While it might seem trivial to some, it's already become a precious gem to me. I plan to unravel the story over six chapters. I hope you enjoy the first one, and I'm open to all opinions. If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥

MASTERLIST NEXT CHAPTER KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU

ACT I - UNMASKING THE SCARS

As the longship glided silently through the dark waters, the moon cast a pale, ethereal glow on the rugged Viking coastline. The scent of salt and adventure filled the night air, and the crew of fierce warriors, led by Dabi, the renegade son of the brutal, ruthless Viking earl, Endeavor, prepared to make landfall.

Dabi, at thirty years of age, bore the marks of a troubled past. Dabi's once-pale skin was now marred by those burns, darkened like a charred log in the heart of a raging fire. His body bore the scars of a fire that had ravaged him in his youth, a cruel gift from his own father, who had attempted to kill him. But it was these very scars that had forged his determination and honed his indomitable spirit. His hair was the color of snow, and his eyes were as blue as the frost-covered sea. He had a reputation as a fierce warrior, known for his ruthless tactics and the way he fought with the fury of a tempest.

The village he came from was a place of cold stone and rough-hewn timbers, where the Viking way of life reigned supreme. The women of the village shied away from Dabi, for his scars marked him as an outcast. He lived a life of solitude, seeking solace in the wild, untamed lands that surrounded their settlement.

Their destination was a small Christian village, nestled among the rolling hills. It had been raided by Dabi's people before, but tonight was different. Tonight, Dabi's heart was restless, and he was inexplicably drawn to the village's fate.

As the Vikings stormed the village, chaos erupted. Houses were set ablaze, and the cries of the villagers filled the night.

The raucous cries of his men filled the air as the village burned and the spoils of their raid were gathered. Dabi stood at the heart of the chaos, an enigmatic figure in the midst of destruction. A faint, unsettling smile tugged at the corners of his lips, hidden beneath the eerie wolf's jaw mask.

He watched with satisfaction as his warriors, his loyal comrades in arms, looted and plundered. The riches of the Christian village flowed into their grasp, their spoils of war. It was a successful trip by Viking standards, a brutal triumph in the unforgiving world they inhabited.

Amidst the smoldering ruins of the Christian village, the Vikings had unleashed their wrath. Blood had been spilled, and the lives of some villagers had been brutally cut short.

But not all of the villagers had met a swift and merciless end. The Vikings, with a calculated eye, had chosen to capture several women and a few men, sparing them from the fate that had befallen their companions. These survivors would serve a different purpose, as slaves in the service of their Viking captors. Among them a young woman. Her hair was the Y/H/C, and her eyes held the innocence of a world untouched by the brutality of the North.

As the raiders dragged the captives away from the charred remains of their homes, the air was heavy with the weight of despair and uncertainty. These men and women, once free, were now prisoners of a world far removed from the peaceful existence they had known. Their lives had taken a harrowing turn, marked by servitude and the harsh reality of Viking conquest.

For Dabi, this decision was not only about power but also about securing the resources and labor needed to sustain their existence in these harsh northern lands. The villagers had been caught in the merciless currents of fate, and their futures were now inexorably tied to the whims of the Viking warriors who had chosen to spare them for their own purposes.

As Dabi inspected the captured men, his gaze swept over the somber group, each face marked by fear and resignation. But then, as if guided by a force beyond his control, his eyes fell upon a young woman. The sight of her took his breath away, and for a moment, he couldn't lie to himself – she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes upon.

Despite the dirt, blood, and tears that marred her face, her beauty shone through like a radiant star in the night sky. Her cheeks bore the scars of anguish, her eyes, streaked with despair, created rivulets in the dust and grime that clung to her skin. Her once-neat clothes, now tattered and dirtied, bore witness to the cruel turn of fate she had endured.

Dabi's heart, which had been hardened by the harshness of Viking life, thudded in his chest with a new and unfamiliar emotion. She was a vision amidst the chaos, and in that moment, he realized that there was something more to her than just her physical beauty. There was a strength in her, a resilience that had allowed her to endure even in the face of such brutality.

As Dabi's eyes locked onto her, a strange and unsettling sensation coursed through him. It was a feeling he couldn't quite comprehend, a magnetic pull that defied all reason. In the midst of the chaos and destruction, this woman, captured from the village, appeared before him like an enigma.

Her hair, now messy, and those defiant eyes held a fierce determination that had not been extinguished by the horrors of the raid. She was a picture of vulnerability and strength intertwined, a paradox that captivated his very soul.

Dabi, who had always been driven by the uncompromising resolve of a Viking warrior, found himself unnerved by the intensity of this attraction. He was a man of few words and even fewer emotions, but her presence stirred something deep within him, a longing he could not explain. He questioned the very nature of his emotions, grappling with the unfamiliar warmth that her presence kindled within him, even though they hadn't spoken.

He couldn't tear his gaze away from her. Every time their eyes met, it felt as if the fates themselves had intervened, weaving their destinies together in a tapestry of fire and ice.

Their initial meeting was far from the romantic tales sung by skalds. She was bound and helpless, standing amidst the ash and ruin of her once-peaceful village. Dabi, cloaked in darkened furs, surveyed the captives with an air of detached authority. His icy gaze met hers, a meeting of two souls from opposite worlds. "You," he spoke, his voice as cold as the northern winds, "What's your name?"

The woman's voice trembled as she replied, avoiding looking at him, "It doesn't matter anymore."

Dabi's frustration simmered just beneath the surface as her initial reply didn't satisfy his curiosity. He huffed in annoyance, the cold air from his breath mingling with the tension in the atmosphere. His desire to understand her and the strange attraction he felt only intensified.

Closing the distance between them, he moved with a predatory grace, catching her by the shoulders and forcing her to turn to face him. His grip, firm but not unkind, held a subtle hint of authority. Their eyes locked, his piercing gaze penetrating her soul. "I asked you for your name, woman," Dabi demanded, his voice tinged with impatience. It was a command that brooked no disobedience, his intensity pushing past the boundaries of the tumultuous situation they found themselves in. His own desire to know her name and the unexplainable connection he felt had turned into an obsession, and he needed answers, regardless of the circumstances.

As Dabi's demand hung in the air, she met his unwavering gaze. Her eyes, a mixture of fear and defiance, looked up into his, a silent struggle raging within her. But shortly after, her gaze faltered, shifting to the mask he wore, crafted from the jagged jaw of a wolf. The sight sent a shiver down her spine, a symbol of the fierce, untamed nature of the man who stood before her.

The man, with the mask that lent him an imposing visage, was tall and imposing, easily towering over her. His presence alone was enough to instill a sense of vulnerability in her.

Trembling, she finally surrendered to his demand, her voice quivering as she spoke, "I am Y/N." Her name, offered with a tremor in her voice, was a fragile gift, a shard of her identity laid bare in the face of the formidable Viking who had claimed her as his captive.

For the next two days, the Viking raiders worked tirelessly to pack the spoils of their conquest onto their longships.

Dabi, ever the watchful leader, stood guard over the entire process, ensuring that the riches plundered from the Christian village were securely stowed away. The village's treasures, from precious metals to food supplies, were meticulously organized and divided amongst the victorious Vikings.

The night of their conquest, the Vikings celebrated their successful raid with an infernal party. Driven by the spoils they had claimed, they emptied the Christians' pantries of beer, meat, and mead. The sound of merriment echoed through the night, a stark contrast to the sorrow that had befallen the captured villagers.

However, amidst the revelry, there were dark moments that marred the festivities. Some of the Viking warriors, fueled by intoxication and the ruthless nature of their world, committed terrible acts upon the captive Christian women without their consent. It was a grim reminder of the brutality that often accompanied such raids, where power and desire clashed with the innocence of the conquered.

Dabi, torn between his leadership role and the strange attraction he felt for one of the captives, observed the chaos with a heavy heart. The celebration, for him, was a juxtaposition of the jubilant and the sinister, a reflection of the duality that defined their lives as Vikings.

After days of tireless packing, the Viking raiders were finally ready to set sail for their homeland. The longships, laden with the spoils of their conquest, were now prepared to embark on the journey back to the rugged shores they called home.

Dabi took his place at the bow of his longship, a position of command and observation. His keen, turquise eyes surveyed the captivated people who had survived the ruthless acts of the past nights. They were a motley group, marked by both the physical and emotional scars of the raid. Some carried the burden of their violated dignity, while others were haunted by the loss of their loved ones and the destruction of their once-peaceful village.

The longship that Dabi commanded was the largest among the six that had come to the shore. It loomed like a dark behemoth against the horizon, its figurehead carving through the waves, a symbol of the Viking's ruthless power. Dabi watched as the captives, those who would serve as slaves in their new life, reluctantly boarded the vessel. It was a moment that carried with it a sense of foreboding, a step into the unknown, as they embarked on a perilous journey to a life that was bound by the harsh code of the Viking world.

Dabi's keen eyes never left the captivating young woman named Y/N as she hesitantly approached the longship. She was one of the last to board, and her trembling form didn't escape his notice. She might have tried to mask her fears with a poker face, but the vulnerability that emanated from her was unmistakable.

A faint, almost smug smirk played at the corners of Dabi's lips. He knew that Y/N was not going to be easily sold in any market or to another earl. The strange attraction he felt for her had ignited something within him, a desire to protect and possess her. He understood that she was unique, an enigma amidst the other captives, and he was prepared to put pressure on his father to ensure she remained with their family in their Great Hall.

The journey back home was arduous and relentless, the Viking longships battling through raging storms and colossal waves that crashed against their sides. The tempestuous sea was a cruel reminder of nature's might, a fierce adversary they had to contend with on their voyage.

For days on end, they sailed through the tumultuous waters, each day bringing new challenges and peril. The crew worked tirelessly to navigate the treacherous waves, their lives intertwined with the unpredictable whims of the sea. The longships, laden with their ill-gotten gains, were tossed like leaves in a tempest, and the thunderous roars of the ocean were their constant companion.

Dabi, despite his role as a leader, occasionally took walks along the longship to check on his comrades. It was an excuse, he told himself, but the truth was that he sought to steal moments to take a closer look at the captivating young woman named Y/N. She was bound to a mast, her body curled in a defensive posture, a vulnerable figure amidst the chaos.

One night, as they braved the wrath of the sea, Dabi stood close to the place where Y/N was tied. He leaned against the side of the boat, his arms crossed, gazing into the darkness that enveloped them. The crashing waves and the howling winds created an eerie symphony, but his focus remained on the woman who had become a focal point of his thoughts.

"I was curious how," Dabi's voice suddenly pierced the silence.

Startled, Y/N was pulled out from a shallow slumber she had allowed to envelop her. She blinked, momentarily disoriented. "What?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and apprehension.

Dabi, who had been standing nearby, turned his gaze toward her. "How do you know our language?" he inquired, his words delivered with a curious, almost neutral tone. It was a question that had been gnawing at him, the mystery of her familiarity with their Viking tongue.

Y/N hesitated, her thoughts racing as she grappled with how to respond. The truth was a delicate matter, a secret that she had guarded with her life. "My father was a Northman," Y/N replied, her voice carrying a note of bitterness, "and as long as he was around, he was teaching me some things."

Dabi's response was not immediate, and in the dim light, his smirk was concealed by the wolf's jaw mask he wore. The revelation intrigued him, and the knowledge that she had learned their language from her Northman father added another layer of complexity to the enigma of Y/N. It was a connection he hadn't anticipated, a bridge between their two worlds that he had yet to fully explore.

"What are you going to do to us?" Y/N asked suddenly, the uncertainty in her eyes betraying her anxiety.

Dabi sighed heavily and walked closer to her, resting his hip against the mast to which she was tied. "You'll work for us," he replied simply, his tone carrying a hint of slyness.

Y/N's expression darkened as she processed his words. "So, we're going to be your slaves," she said with a tinge of bitterness, "a beautiful perspective."

Dabi chuckled softly, the sound muffled by his mask. "Well, we Vikings have a different way of looking at things, you see. You'll find our 'perspective' quite interesting, I assure you."

"Why us?" Y/N asked, curiosity mingling with her apprehension.

Dabi's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Your village was raided before, and you happen to possess a huge amount of goods we needed," he replied, the slyness in his voice becoming more apparent. "You could say it's just a matter of unfortunate circumstances."

"You're a monster. You all are. You killed innocent people!" Y/N ground the accusation from the depths of her mind.

Dabi chuckled darkly, his head tilting back slightly. "We? Oh no, sunshine, we're not monsters," he retorted, his voice dripping with a chilling nonchalance. Dabi leaned in closer to Y/N, his voice low and filled with an air of mystery. "You see," he began, a hint of smugness in his tone. "We are Vikings, warriors of the North. Our ways are brutal, but they're also fiercely proud. We live by the sword and sail by the stars. Our world is one of conquest and survival, where strength and cunning are the ultimate currencies." Dabi paused for a moment, as if considering whether to reveal more. "And you, Y/N, have found yourself caught in the wake of our world. Your journey is now intertwined with ours, and how it unfolds, well, that remains to be seen."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the unknown.

Dabi's sharp ears caught the sound of Y/N's quiet sobs, and he turned his gaze toward her.

Her words, filled with pain and anger, washed over him. "I wanna rather die than be a slave," she lamented, "you're animals, killing and robbing for fun. I'll never forgive you for killing my friends."

He let out a low, almost amused chuckle, a sound that resonated with a kind of sly arrogance. "Animals, you say?" he responded, his voice carrying a note of mockery. "Perhaps, but in our world, it's the fittest that survive. We aren't much for sentiment, and the reality is, we did what we had to do to ensure our own survival." Dabi's gaze remained fixed on her, and his tone took on a more cryptic edge. "As for forgiveness, sunshine, that's not something I'm particularly concerned about. We live by the code of the North, and it's a world where the line between predator and prey is often blurred. It's a harsh existence, but it's ours."

As the Viking longships sailed southward through the tempestuous sea, they finally reached their home village, known as Skjaldvargr nestled on the southern shores of Norway.

The arrival of Dabi and his crew was met with a raucous reception. The people of Skjaldvargr, mostly guards and shieldmaidens, had been eagerly awaiting their return. The shieldmaidens, with their fierce eyes and battle-worn armor, stood proudly alongside their male counterparts, a testament to the equality that defined Viking society.

The village came to life with the clanging of shields and the joyful cries of reunion as the raiders disembarked, their ill-gotten treasures in tow. It was a homecoming marked by the spoils of their conquest and the triumphant return of their warriors, a scene that underscored the unyielding spirit of the people of Skjaldvargr.

The longships were expertly unloaded, and the captivated men and women were carefully escorted off the vessels. They were bound together, forming a dispirited line, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and resignation. The captives from the Christian village now stood on the wooden pier, their lives forever changed by the Viking raid.

Dabi was the last to disembark. As he stepped onto the pier, the people of Skjaldvargr erupted into cheers. His name carried weight in the village; he was known not only as a fierce Viking warrior but also as one of the heirs to Endeavor, their ruthless earl. His presence was a symbol of power and authority, and the villagers greeted him with a mixture of reverence and admiration.

The triumphant return of Dabi and his crew marked a momentous occasion in the life of Skjaldvargr, where the spoils of their conquest and the legend of their daring deeds would echo through the halls of their Great Hall. The fate of the captives, bound and silent, hung in the balance, as the world of the Northmen unfurled before them.

Among the men and women on the shore, there was a tall, white-haired male with a thick, long fur draped around his shoulders, a figure that stood out amidst the assembled Vikings.

Dabi approached the man and wrapped him in a warm hug. "Natsuo, brother," he greeted him with a grin that couldn't be seen behind his mask.

Natsuo, the younger of the two, returned the hug, placing his hands on Dabi's shoulders. "Looking good and returning successful again. Wonderful," he replied with a hint of admiration in his voice. He stepped back, taking a moment to study his brother. "But what's all this fuss about a Christian village?" he inquired, his curiosity evident. "You've got everyone talking."

Dabi's smirk only widened as he regarded his brother. "Oh, Natsuo, it's a long story. Let's catch up over a drink at the Great Hall. I have quite the tale to tell."

The brothers shared a knowing glance, the unspoken understanding between them evident in their eyes.

Dabi wasted no time in issuing his orders to one of his men. "Make sure the Y/H/C woman is not sent to the market but is brought straight to the Great Hall," he commanded, his tone devoid of any room for discussion.

His bondsman, ever dutiful, nodded in acknowledgment of the directive.

Natsuo, wearing a mischievous grin, couldn't resist teasing his older brother about the mysterious woman. "Dabi, she must be quite the catch if you're keeping her for yourself," he said, his tone laced with amusement. "Hope you're going to share a little!"

Dabi scoffed, playfully shoving his brother's shoulder. "Don't be absurd, Natsuo. She's just a captive from the Christian village. I've got more important matters to attend to," he replied, his tone gruff but carrying a hint of a secret smile. "Now, off to the Great Hall. Father is likely impatient for the reports."

The banter between the two brothers continued as they made their way to the heart of Skjaldvargr, leaving behind the captivated woman who had captured Dabi's attention and a tale that had yet to fully unfold.

His hips moved with swift and forceful determination, and the woman beneath him found herself panting and moaning his name in response. With a final series of intense grunts and thrusts, the young man with distinctive two-coloured hair reached his climax, giving one last deep thrust into the girl, spilling his seed in her.

She gently placed her palm against his cheek, her touch brushing over a scarred, reddened area under his left eye. However, her hand was met with a swift and firm push as he growled, withdrawing from her and hurriedly adjusting his pants.

"No," he snarled, pushing her off his bed with ease. "Get the fuck out now," he demanded, his tone filled with a brusque and dismissive edge.

"But you told me you liked me and that we'd have more time together," the young thrall whispered softly as she gathered her clothes from the wooden floor.

The young man's chuckle was cold and devoid of genuine emotion. "Are you that naive?" he sneered, "I only wanted your pussy, nothing else. Get out of my bed before my father or older brother catch you. You don't want to find yourself in trouble, do you?"

The thrall, disheartened and regretful, quickly dressed and left the room. She entered the main chamber of the Great Hall just as Natsuo and Dabi stepped through the massive doors.

Their father, Endeavor, the fearsome earl of Skjaldvargr, was seated at the throne at the end of the chamber, grinding his axe. His stern gaze bore into his eldest son as they approached, a silent expectation for a report on their latest raid.

"The raid on the Christian village was a resounding success. We looted their coffers, took their goods, and brought back valuable supplies that will sustain our village for the winter. The riches we've acquired are beyond our expectations."

Endeavor nodded, acknowledging the information. "Any captives?" he inquired, his eyes scrutinizing his son.

Dabi continued, "We have several men and women who will serve as thralls. We've also secured a Y/H/C woman who is very unique, father. She possesses knowledge of our language, and I've made the decision to keep her within our Great Hall rather than sending her to the market."

He listened to Dabi's report with a stern demeanor, his eyes narrowing as his son spoke about the captive Y/H/C woman. When Dabi finished, the earl's voice held a note of warning. "You know that you shouldn't be making such decisions without my consent," he admonished, his tone heavy with authority. "But this time, I will let it slide."

Inside, Dabi couldn't help but heave a silent sigh of relief. Endeavor's leniency meant that he would have the opportunity to interact with Y/N more freely, a chance to explore the mystery and attraction that had drawn him to her during the journey home. The knowledge that he wouldn't face immediate consequences for his impulsive decision filled him with a sense of gratitude, even as he maintained his outward composure.

Natsuo, on the other hand, took a seat at the long table, where freshly cooked meat was being served by their thralls. He joined the warriors who had gathered to eat, listening to the tale of their successful raid with a satisfied grin. The sounds of feasting and celebration filled the Great Hall, a stark contrast to the darkness and secrets that had transpired on the longship during the journey home.

As Dabi stood in front of his father, a sudden presence caught his attention. A young man with two-colored hair, neatly groomed but slightly untidy now, had joined them. It was Shoto, Dabi's youngest brother, who had recently celebrated his eighteenth spring. His appearance and demeanor appeared deceivingly innocent, but Dabi knew that his younger sibling was not to be underestimated.

"So, you've returned, brother," Shoto said, his tone dripping with feigned sweetness. He offered Dabi a smile that was almost too saccharine, given the complexities of their family dynamics.

Dabi acknowledged Shoto with a nod, a sense of unease brewing beneath the surface.

Shoto turned his attention to their father, Endeavor, his voice carrying a subtle air of request. "Father, this winter, I want to visit Earl Gizzor's settlement, as we discussed. It's crucial that we maintain good relationships between our settlements."

Dabi furrowed his brow, disbelief tinging his words. "What? How do you intend to do that? We've declared war on them."

Shoto maintained his sweet smile as he responded, "While you were away, brother, father and I reached an agreement. We've decided that it's no longer necessary to wage war with Earl Gizzor. Instead, we've buried the hatchet."

Dabi was taken aback, struggling to process what he was hearing. Earl Gizzor was known to be a man of dubious trustworthiness, and the sudden reconciliation with him left a bitter taste in Dabi's mouth. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, and the unexpected alliance between his younger brother and their father raised more questions than it provided answers.

Endeavor nodded in agreement with Shoto's proposal, adding his voice to the conversation. "Shoto is right, Dabi. Maintaining alliances and peace with neighboring earls is essential. We can't be at war on all fronts."

Dabi, with a simple nod of acknowledgment, turned to leave the throne area of the chamber. However, before he walked away, he caught Shoto's shoulder, his grip gentle but firm. "You have a fucking sperm on your pants, you little bastard," he grumbled, his voice low and filled with a blend of irritation and brotherly mockery. "Which poor thrall have you managed to lure into your charms this time?"

Shoto, not one to be easily cowed, replied in a wry and cocky whisper, ensuring their father couldn't hear, "You're always looking so closely, brother. Some of us don't need a mask to be charming. If you looked look like a real man, you wouldn't need to be envious of my romantic pursuits," he quipped, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he took a not-so-subtle dig at Dabi, looking him hardly in the eyes.

Their exchange, hidden beneath the veneer of family respect and decorum, hinted at a deeper sibling rivalry and a history of conflicting personalities. The tension between Dabi and Shoto was a thread woven into the very fabric of their family.

Dabi's patience worn thin by the exchange with Shoto. He scoffed and let go of his younger brother's arm. He turned and made his way straight to his chamber, his footsteps heavy.

Natsuo, who had been a silent witness to the situation between his two brothers, watched with a heavy heart. He loved them both and couldn't bring himself to pick sides, but the tension in the air was palpable, and he worried about the growing rift between Dabi and Shoto.

In his own chamber, Dabi wasted no time. He shed his outer layers, discarding the fur, the mask, woolen shirt, and pants until he stood naked in the room. He flopped onto his bed, which was covered with furs, and stared at the ceiling. His mind was filled with thoughts about everything that had transpired during the days, and he couldn't help but wonder about Shoto's intentions and the potential consequences of their father's newfound alliance.

After some contemplation, he decided to take a bath to clear his mind. Dabi wrapped a towel around his hips and called for one of the thralls to prepare a hot bath for him.

As the thrall prepared the bath, the steam filled the room, creating a cozy and relaxing atmosphere. Dabi wasted no time and immersed himself in the hot water of the wooden tub. The soothing warmth seeped into his muscles, and he leaned back comfortably against the edge, closing his eyes.

The scent of the bath's herbs and oils mixed with the steam, creating a fragrant haven that allowed Dabi to momentarily escape the complexities of his world. With each passing moment, the tensions seemed to melt away, leaving him in blissful solitude and the serene embrace of the soothing bathwater.

As you were brought to the Great Hall, everything appeared new and unfamiliar. Fear coursed through your veins as you found yourself surrounded by strangers, most of them men whose eyes bore into you with an unsettling hunger. The air was thick with whispered, lewd comments, but you did your best to avoid drawing attention, keeping your gaze lowered and your composure intact.

Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, an older woman, a thrall who had been through similar experiences, extended a hand to guide you away from the prying eyes. She offered a reassuring smile as she took your hand and spoke in a soothing tone. "Come with me, child. I'll explain your new duties and help you settle in," she said, her voice filled with empathy. "You'll find your place here, and in time, it will become more familiar."

Her words provided a glimmer of hope in the midst of your fear, as you followed the thrall to begin your new life in the Great Hall, embarking on a journey that held both uncertainty and the possibility of finding your own strength in a world of unfamiliar faces and customs.

The thrall, as she handed you a plain, thick, greyish dress, began to speak about the members of the earl's family. Her voice was gentle and informative, and you listened attentively, eager to learn more about the people you would be serving. In the end, it was your new life.

She explained, "The earl is Endeavor, a formidable leader and the head of this settlement. He's known for his strength and authority, but also for his ruthlessness."

You nodded, taking in the information, and she continued, "Touya, the eldest son, is a fierce warrior, and he's known for his prowess in raids. His younger brother, Natsuo, is more diplomatic, often seeking peaceful resolutions. The youngest of Endeavor's sons is Shoto," the thrall continued, her voice carrying a more cautious tone as she spoke of him. "He can be the most problematic one, especially when it comes to his affairs." Her words were filled with a hint of warning. "Shoto is known for his charisma and charm, but don't be fooled. He's a smooth talker and has a way of getting what he wants." She leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing as she emphasized, "Be careful around him, dear. He may seem charming, but his intentions can be far from virtuous."

Overwhelmed by the realization that you had been reduced to nothing but a slave, a feeling of hopelessness and anger welled up within you. You turned to the elder woman and, with a hint of defiance, you declared, "I don't want to work. I won't be a slave."

The thrall, her expression heavy with the weight of harsh reality, looked at you with a stern gaze. She leaned in closer, her voice low and foreboding as she whispered, "You don't have a choice in this matter, my child, so hadn't I. If you refuse to work, you won't survive for long. This is the way of our world, and it's a harsh one. I arrived here several years ago, after being taken from the settlement of another earl who was killed in a battle with Endeavor, and ever since, I've been toiling for the earl's family. The tasks are far from rewarding, but such is the way of life," she explained, her voice tinged with resignation.

As you inquired about the tall man who cnquered your village, the thrall's eyes held a certain intensity, and she clarified, "It was Dabi. Dabi is his chosen warrior name. His given name is Touya."

You had obediently completed your first task of cleaning the Great Hall, even though it felt like a menial chore that reflected your new life as a thrall. However, when another thrall instructed you to go to another room to help with the bath, you complied without question. With a heavy sigh, you followed the directions and pushed open the door.

As you stepped into the room, a rush of steam enveloped you, carrying a fragrance of herbs that filled the air. Your brow furrowed in surprise, but before you could react further, the steam dissipated. What lay before you was a scene that caught you off guard: a large bed and clothes, and a mask that you recognized from when Dabi had worn it.

Then, your eyes fell upon the figure in the bath, and a gasp escaped your lips, a sound you couldn't control. You took an involuntary step back as the sight unfolded before you. The man in the bath was Dabi, his body covered with a patchwork of purple, dark, scarred skin. These gnarled, wrinkled, and disfigured patches marred much of his lower face and neck, extending past his collarbone, and continued down his arms and legs. Your whimper of shock hung in the air, and you couldn't help but take another step back, horror etched on your face. It was the first time you saw him without a mask.

Dabi's turquoise eyes opened slowly, and he gazed at you with a haunting intensity. "That's you," he whispered, a quiet acknowledgment of your presence, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery and a deep well of secrets.

As the realization of Dabi's disfigured appearance settled in, the room seemed to grow heavy with tension. Your initial shock gave way to a mix of empathy and curiosity, wondering about the circumstances that had led to such extensive scarring.

The room, suffused with the aroma of herbs, steam and the eerie sight of his scars, seemed to cradle you both in its embrace, marking a pivotal moment that was only beginning to unfold.

heathen wolves: @indignant-alpaca @misafiryanki @roast-toast @within-eyesight @crystalwolfblog

[simplydannie]

Introducing “mini fics”! I am refocusing myself to work and finish my main stories, but sometimes I’ll take a break and let my mind wonder. Mini fics aren’t meant to be carried on for more parts or continuation. They are short sweet stories (maaayyybe angst) that are just purely one-shots and “what ifs” in my AU to just enjoy. They’ll serve has place holders while I finish some main stories and art stuff that I tend to put off. So enjoy!

Vivian and Vaughn have a surprise for their twins… but it’s not the surprise they are expecting…

Velvet and Veneer had just returned from school. They sat on the couch, both wondering what in the world was going on.

“Did you do something and blame me?” Veneer turned to his twin, arching an eyebrow. He wore his usual attire: a red button up, short sleeve shirt tucked into his high waisted black jeans. It was left unbuttoned to reveal his black undershirt underneath. On his head at his favorite purple beanie that had belonged to his dad, and his favorite white and golden sneakers.

“Woooowww, really? You think that of me bro?” Velvet studied herself in the mirror, tucking in a loose strand of hair. Her black pleaded skirt wrinkles, an oversized dark pink sweater with a white collar underneath. Like he brother, she sported white and gold high tops, her purple scrunchie laying on her hair.

“Well cause it’s what you do! Why else would mom and dad tell us to wait here when we got back from school.”

“Hmmm, yeah you were right I probably did then. I just don’t remember what they heck it is.” She studied her nails unimpressed.

“One day Vels, I’ll get you back one day..”

Their conversation was broken as their mother made her way down the stairs.

“Oh good you’re home!” Vivian chimed, “Vaughn! Vaughn! They’re home!!” She squealed, running to the living room drawer pulling out a small box. Their father came down the stairs, a genuine look of embarrassment on his face.

“Perhaps just wait till you-…” He began to say.

“What? No!! I was so happy to tell you now we tell them together!” She went over pulling her husband's arm to join her.

“I just know what they’re going to say.” Vaughn crossed his arms as he looked at his twins with his ice, blue eyes.

“Did we do something?” Veneer asked.

“No sweetheart! Me and your father have a surprise for both of you!” Vivian smiled.

This peaked their attention. They both stood up walking over towards their parents, a gleeful look in their eyes.

“Oh my gosh! A vacation! We’re going on a vacation!” Velvet smiled.

“Well… no not-…”

“Oh! Dad got a new limo!! We’ll be going to school in a new limo! The one that has the little kitchen inside! I could eat my breakfast to school now!” Veneer clapped excitedly.

“Seriously…” Vaughn looked at both of them, “What children did we raise?”

“Spoiled ones dad, spoiled ones.” Velvet smirked.

“Listen. It’s nothing like that. Though it’s something you can do all that stuff with.” Vivian said. The twins looked at her with confusion in their eyes. She handed them the tiny box, Velvet took it in her hands and opened it…. Her eyes shot wide…

“You’re kidding me!!”

Veneer peeked, “A stick? Is that a thermometer? There’s a plus sign. Does that mean someone is sick?”

“No Ven…” She eyes her parents, “This means mom is pregnant!”

“Surprise!” Vivian exclaimed.

A smile crossed Veneer's face, “Do I finally get to be a big brother?”

“Yes! Both of you have been promoted to older siblings!” She clapped her hands in excitement. Veneer squealed, hugging his mother.

Velvet shot a deadly glance at her dad, “Ew guys really!! At your age!”

Vaughn shrugged, “We still got it. Why not?”

“Gross dad! It’s called being careful! Being cautious! PROTECTION! Now I have to pay the price…”

“And here we go… the rant.” Vaughn cued.

“I had to deal with a little sibling for seventeen years!”

“Girl, you’re only three minutes older.”

“Regardless! Now I have to be seventeen years older to another little brat! Why do you guys make me suffer? Do you really hate me this much!”

Vivian pulled both her daughter and son into a hug, “So dramatic. I wonder where she gets that from.” She smirks towards her husband.

“No idea.”

“Our family is growing! I have trouble getting pregnant already, so being able to have a second time… it’s a miracle sweetheart.”

Velvet's anger simmered… it was true. Her mother called them her miracle babies after struggling for so long. The fact that she still was able to was amazing enough. She let out a heavy sigh.

“Fine… As long as it’s a girl.” Velvet pouted.

“I don’t care, I just wanna be the coolest big brother! Oh! Mom, dad can I please go shopping when you two go for baby stuff. Pleeeaaassseeee.” Veneer begged.

Vivian giggles, “Of course!”

Velvet glares at her father, punching him playfully in the arm, “Please calm yourself down next time old man.”

Vaughn couldn’t help but smile.

[darksvster]

sweet child o' mine — ➥ t, drabble series, 1,652 words rupert and taggie have their first daughter, rosaline campbell-black, and the family, are, appropriately, a nightmare when it comes to welcoming the new member of the clan.

aka

rcb jr. au where we get snippets of the campbell-black extended family doting on and spoiling rupert and taggie's new baby.

(chapter drabbles, not a full coherent story, for my own sanity)

read the full fic on ao3

"Your father is going to kill you for this, Tabitha," Perdita hisses as she watches her younger half-sister carrying yet another, even younger half-sister to the horse stables.

"He's your father too!" the little girl with blonde hair snaps, glaring at her elder sister.

With the grooms taking a brief reprieve during lunch, Tab is happily carrying her new baby sister, Rosie, to the stamping dark horse known as Pridie.

"Not to that one!" Perdita gasps, rushing over to take the one-year-old from her sister. "He'll buck her off!"

"You said you put Eddie on a horse the day after he was born," Tab pouts. "Rosie needs to catch up!"

"I might have exaggerated the timeline for effect," Perdita mumbles. Then, when Tab narrows her eyes suspiciously, Perdita rolls her eyes. "At least let me get on first," she groans, shutting Pridie's stall and walking to old Rocky's bed. Inside, the old grey stallion looks back at her dubiously.

"Rocky's too old!"

"He's a much easier ride, especially if I'm going to be holding a baby," Perdita says with a glare, grabbing the tack to saddle the horse before stepping on the stirrup and riding on top of the tall showjumping champion. "Give her here."

Tab looks at her dubiously. "I want her first ride."

"Tabitha, don't be ridiculous. You barely know how to take care of yourself. At least I have had practice with a baby on a horse."

"I'm pretty sure it was Luke," Tab says, thinking of the tall American brother-in-law who always had a kind smile for her. "He seems like a more stable rider anyway."

"Oh hush, you brat. And stop smiling like that while talking about my husband. Give her to me, she's fussing," Perdita says with a glare. Reaching down, she takes the little baby, dressed in white lace and wrapped around with a blue ribbon like a present. Placing the babe in front of her in the saddle, Perdita almost misses when Tab moves to get on Rocky too. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm not going to miss this!" she says haughtily, clambering on top of the horse and wrapping her arms around Perdita. "Can I hold her?"

Read more on AO3!

[whalesforhands]

singe the tales ii (jjk fantasy au)

adventuring is never what it seemed to be, not when your companions are the loopy sort.

warnings: light gore, injuries, blood, depression and stress, geto-centric but i swear it has a purpose as to why i chose him here

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“Mr. Gojo, please don’t eat everything so quickly…” Your quiet voice is riddled with panic at you pat at the man’s back from your position next to him, his frame bent over to stuff his face with the berry tarts you had baked earlier that day for dessert. Upon his face were a pair of black-tinted glasses, his eyes peeking over them with stuffed cheeks, a red flush upon his face as watched you.

“I can’t help it—!” He stops to use his thumb to push a stray crumb onto his lips, his tongue peeking out to net in the remainders of your baking. “They’re so good!”

(Anything made by you is good, honestly.)

Sitting at one of the wooden tables with the rest of them, the guild hall empty save for Sylrel lighting the candles nearby. On the table sat dinner, mashed potatoes, grilled corn, mushroom stew with a helping of bread. In the corner sat a plate of your homemade berry tarts, which you hadn’t expected to steal the show this evening.

“I think you heard wrong, Satoru. She’s telling you stop being a damned glutton.” Shoko is utterly unimpressed as she shields her own tarts away just as the white-haired sorcerer reaches for her plate. “You already had 5!” She swipes her own plate up, turning her back to the man as she munches on them.

His attention is then turned towards you, all puppy-like in their glittering blue, a pout to match with his distress of not having more.

It’s unfortunate that you don’t have any more.

“Uhm—“ By the gods, whichever deity crafted that sugar-sweet face of his was going to be the death of you. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gojo… I didn’t bake extras.”

The almost whimper like sound he lets out makes your heart squeeze. “I apologise. I’ll put in the order for more ingredients next time…” Your hands are shaking with disappointment under your long sleeves, upset with your own lack of foresight. You didn’t expect them to love the treats you made with leftover stock of ingredients so good. Didn’t expect them to give them even the light of day compared to Sylrel’s cooking.

You feel your hand being tugged out and onto a warm palm as fingers playfully open and close around it.

“Stop calling me that!” He now sounds more upset than earlier, pout growing bigger as he interlinked his own fingers with yours, letting you feel how his rougher hand felt against your softer ones. “I don’t like being called that by you…”

The gears in your brain start turning, but don’t exactly click. Oh. He must be upset you’re still talking as if you were on the job despite it being long past your working hours. (Just like how Shoko was upset. Though, she was chattering away with you whilst you were still working…)

“I see. I will take note of this… Satoru.” He brightens up immediately. You seem to be right.

“Then I wish to be referred to by my first name as well.”

Ah, ah, ah. Geto Suguru’s first mistake was reminding the Gojo Satoru of his presence.

“Say, Suguru.” Fingers excitedly thrum against the wooden tabletop. “Ya got tarts leftover, right?”

“Don’t even think about it, you spoiled brat.”

“I killed the most gnolls!”

“Oh, yea? You didn’t count the ones in the cave, then.”

“Pfft, no way you got more kills than me! I blasted them all to oblivion!”

“Whilst almost killing us. Your spells don’t even go off properly half the time. Can you even call yourself a sorcerer?”

There’s a clattering of the wooden stool to the ground as the insulted sorcerer took a stand. “You trying to say something, Suguru?”

“No, but are you? Satoru.” Darkening auras and heightened tensions, the bated breaths as the atmosphere grew colder, more threatening as the heights of the pressure was just teetering on its climax.

“I’m not a part of this.” Her hands are going up to cup the ears hidden behind her hair as she scoots off her own seat, swiftly subtracting herself from the commotion so as to not be caught in the crossfire before hiding behind you.

Your throat clears as you let out a cough, the glowing shine of your hands a threat to both the gentlemen before you. “Please refrain from violence within the guild hall.”

“Yes, ma’am…”

——

Tales are meant to be told, to be sung about by bards even in the distant future, to be revered and remembered by many even when one’s soul has long departed from the mortal realm.

You should know this best, seeing how many young, hopeful, bright-eyed adventurers tumble into your humble guild hall, their footsteps upon the creaky wooden floorboards before excitedly slapping the flyer from the board onto your desk as you begin to recite its details, putting emphasis on the dangers and the cautions they must take as they wave you off with brighter grins and shining confidence, assuring you that they would be fine.

Only for them to never return ever again.

You hate it. Hate losing those mere children to this cruel world as you shakily hang up the quest once more a few weeks later, upon this dreadful board that seemed to be growing and growing with endless requests. Is there… Really no hope for this guild that Sylrel has tried so hard to keep afloat after all…?

That’s when they came. Tumbling into the guild hall as the white-haired sorcerer pulled at darker member’s long hair, his arm tight around the black-haired man’s neck as he squeezed, before there was retaliation, a kick to his shins that landed them both on the ground and rolling about on the carpeted wooden flooring of your workplace. There was blood, there were bruises, a few cracks but eventually you were the one to pull them apart, trapping them in shields as the brown-haired maiden waved and greeted you with unusual ease despite the situation.

Those three. As disagreeable and weird of a trio that they are, they have never failed to return to you. Sometimes scathed minimally when Shoko has run out of magic for the day, armor never failing to be reduced to practically nothing, but determination and excitement aglow even if they don’t complete fully complete a quest.

Adventurers with pure, unrelenting potential and drive. True survivalists that are ready to take on any challenge. In your eyes, they were nothing short of heroes.

But even they can’t save everyone.

Now, as you laid upon a bedroll, body unable to move, but sensation slowly willing you to crack open your eyes. Your skin no longer felt singed with burns and charred flesh, your legs no longer crushed, gored through with wooden beams, bones no longer pulverized into broken fractures.

Shoko was truly the finest of healers. How did you even know who were your saviors? Why, the scent of bergamot and nicotine was always an unusual combination.

You can’t eat, is what you realize. Not even a spoonful of the extremely watered down, minuscule specks of rice they had tried to feed you, vomit and acidic bile rising from your throat with every scoop that was attempted to feed your lifeless form laying upon the makeshift bed within their camp.

You’re more focused on the hurt, now that it’s all gone. Gone, destroyed. Yet your lowly self can do nothing but lay here as this wretched body of yours refuses to get up.

Everything was taken from you. Everything. Your home, your life, your family—

Sylrel.

Screams and echoes and crashes and shrieking and crying and pure chaos. You didn’t expect it, hadn’t even thought something of this caliber would happen. A sudden raid upon the lowly guild hall, fire, smoke, ash— The falling wooden beams, the cries for mercy by the young adventurers that tried to defend themselves—

You want to hurl.

Your protection magic wasn’t enough. You weren’t enough. Even when you focused so hard on saving everyone around, that you forgot about yourself.

The shattering of your shield around the cowering boy as the monstrous ogre decimated through, the poor victim reduced to nothing but a corpse as he was swiped up, his head separating from his body in a wet choke as your eyes started watering at the scene.

You didn’t have time to grieve. To wallow in your uselessness before the ceiling came crashing down, burnt rubble and charred wooden beams falling onto your fragile body, the crushing weight pushing on your lungs as you let out a scream, wood splints digging into the flesh of your crushed body and ripped dress. Your hands barely peeled out, swear that you could feel blood spewing out from every orifice.

Your head felt heavy, your eyesight growing bleary as a wood continued to burn and sear itself onto your skin, the smell of burnt flesh and meat and ash beginning to stink as you grow disgusted.

It’s too late for you. But— Sylrel— Where was she?!

“Sy—!” The smoke is choking your lungs as the last of your dying voice is used to call out to your blonde maternal figure. Your eyesight is growing bleary, your head growing blank. You’re dying. Perhaps it’s for the best, that you die here, where you were raised, where you served, where you failed.

There’s silence, before a wooden beam is lifted off of you to reveal your utterly broken state, there’s a revelation of how a sharp edge has stabbed through your middle, your stomach bleeding into the fabric of your uniform, your form impaled, broken, out of spells and absolutely ruined.

Sylrel has spotted you, alongside the horde of ogres right behind her. No. No! Sylrel!

You try to speak, to warn her but you can’t. You’re hanging onto life by a thread as it was. Why are you still trying…?

But strangely, she wasn’t attacked. The sight of her pained face and her gritted teeth, the shimmer of her tear streaked cheeks against the burning embers as her dress flittered about, the surrounding screams dying to nothing as you watched her mouth her final words to you.

“I’m sorry…!”

It was the last words you heard from your dear Sylrel before you heard a pained scream, the tearing of fabric, the crunch of bone and the stomping of feet before it all faded to black as the wooden beam was thrown back atop of you.

It makes you sweat, makes you worry, makes you cry, the fear, the anxiety and anxious hopelessness. You can’t hold it together.

You’re up. Your eyes snapping open as you feel alive, moving. Your limbs alike the anchors of ships as you struggle against your own body.

No. No. No! The guild, the people— The ogres, that army that stormed your precious home…!

Your legs are jelly, barely able to pick yourself off as you start to crawl to the entrance, hopeless anxiety and body fueled by pure adrenaline pushing you to move on, your trembling feet finally finding balance as you rip back the curtains, the cold night air and darkness of your surroundings disregarded, much like the stones and pebbles digging into your bare feet as you clumsily ran, only one thing mattered in your head now.

You don’t care about the sharp rocks stinging your bare feet. Don’t care about the unforgiving cold of the night air as it burns your exposed cheeks, don’t care about the shivers, the thin clothing that you adorned. Nothing else matters right now.

The guild. Sylrel— Survivors— Anything. You were holding onto this worthless hope that something could possibly still be there, that you could still protect what meant the most to you. That there was a chance to redeem your failure.

You catch glimpses, glances of your surroundings. Oak trees, tents, a put out fire… A campsite. This forest, that river… You know this place. You can’t be far off from the guild.

A signpost, a road. That’s all you need to find to make your way back.

You barely made it out the camp before you were intercepted, a breeze that was never there, a shiver that crawls your spine. That’s when you see it. Glowing red eyes that hissed from within the darkness, a snake, a creature. It’s body is large, shiny scales reflecting the moonlight as it slithers far too close, far too near. Revealing itself to your terrified eyes.

A Titanoboa. How? How?! You studied your surrounding areas for years…! There’s no way such creatures were within this biome!

Were you wrong all along? Have you studied for nothing? Was all you ever amounted to… Nothing? No. Focus. This isn’t the time for that. Magic— Why can’t you use it?!

Its very presence paralyzes you in fear, your breaths quickening with that resounding heart rate of yours, your own body freezing in place, hands barely sparking with the spells you were so used to casting, betraying your mind as it slithered its tail around you, legs immediately going limp as it coils around your body, acting as binds to hold you in place as you hear the low hisses. It has an oddly… Gentle touch. Unlike a wild beast seeking its next meal. Something is off.

Do your instincts… Simply not work like they used to?

“You shouldn’t be out here.” You recognise that voice. Suguru. He appears from within the shadows of the trees, hair down and weary eyes that seemed to be full of unadulterated concern. This beast must belong to him.

“Bring her towards me. Gently.” The serpent relents, uncoiling and gently plopping your form into the hold of its master as it lets out a low hiss, dismissing itself in a shroud of smoke.

“That— Thank you. I’m in a rush now, I’ll be ba—“ You shouldn’t be thanking him for staking his own summons against you, yet your frazzled mind can’t seem to comprehend anything as you push against the cage that was his sturdy arms.

…? His silence does little to appease the growing nausea in your stomach.

“Sug-Suguru— I-I need to go. Let go of me…!”

He remains silent. No. No. Nononononononono—

“No!” You’re surprised at the strength you still possess. “Let me go! I have to— I have to get back!” You’re panicked, absolutely terrified, kicking, punching, flailing against the grip of his arms around you as you try to get away.

“Suguru, please!” You’re starting to cry, to sob as you struggle against him. “I have to go back! Sylrel— She—!”

“(name).” His voice is kept soft, gently cutting you off as an even gentler hand tilts your cheek to face him, eye to eye with swirling, worried purple. “Please listen to me.”

No, you don’t want to listen. Don’t want to hear him say those words you had been begging, pleading to not have uttered to you. This isn’t real. This is a dream, right? A sick, twisted dream.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry

“There was—“ He sucks in a breath as he watches the tears streak down your cold cheeks, thumb tenderly wiping at a droplet from your face as you started to cry even harder. “Nothing left when we found you.”

I’m sorry there was nothing I could do.

“You—“ You hands grip onto the bundled fabric of his clothes. “You don’t understand!” You’re hyperventilating, sweaty and dizzy. “It was the only thing I had! It was the—!” Only thing you lived for. The only thing your life ever revolved around. You never wanted for more, never settled for less. That was you. Your life and everything it had achieved, crumbled into ash and dust.

Was there any meaning of you being alive then? Your tears slowly build up, drips and drops of them soaking into his shirt as you simply broke down. It’s over.

“It was the only thing I ever knew…” It was all you were good for. Your home, your comfort, you. It is— was the very essence of your being.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can say, all he can offer you.

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Notes:

*Titanoboa. Not apart of any fandom, and was very much real in the human world. An extinct species of snake that existed back in the dinosaur ages that will grow up to 40 feet long, or 12 metres for my readers who don’t follow the American metric system.

*Guild hall. Should have explained this sooner, but here we are. The place where adventurers, new and veteran alike congregate to accept quests from the public. Quest forms are filled in by the requesting villager, a reward is optional, but very much welcome by adventurers and proves to increase the chances of your problems being solved quicker. These quests are then looked through by receptionists, and subsequently hung up on a giant board for all to see that it is made available for taking. (Based off the system from Goblin Slayer)

*Ogre. Large, hulking giants. About 10 feet tall (3 metres) and around 300 kg, (660 lbs). Easily angered and easily one of the stupidest creatures who are able to speak and understand the human tongue. Quick to destroy, quick to hunger for flesh of any sorts, and are typically in hordes due to their natures of overwhelming enemies with sheer number. Not known to operate under commands of another species. (Paraphrased from Baldur’s Gate 3/Dungeons and Dragons.)

nvy’s aftertalk:

my back hurt after writing this

sorry this chapter is so boring witb no romance i’m doing my best to advance the plot :(